A picture will hold such as you are in that physical, definable sense. What if beauty were more? What if, of the thousands of words that a picture can speak, what if the words that they didn’t describe were the words I needed to read, or even needed to hear from your voice? If a picture tells a thousand words, well, a picture of my heart would speak a single sentence at least a thousand times, all of this beating at the rhythm of a heart. The words of a heart don’t need to be spoken. Allow me to say that even the sentence itself falls short of its own being. Emotion falls short of itself. One minute we find ourselves absolutely passionate and with the next we are full of apathy for anything outside of ourselves. I wonder how our heart still beats. I’ve memorized the right answers for anyone who would bother asking. Strange, it’s such any easy thing to forget. I don’t quite understand it and I find myself loving a thousand different trivial objects and concepts. They will make a clear picture of my selfishness. These words are far beyond me. Regardless of what I am meant for, there will always be what I have to choose. There will always be our choices, I have not forgotten that I am not one. I will keep a thousand words all told to stand still in a photograph. Know that the words I long most to read are the words carved into my heart. Know that these words will exist as long as I do. They will die with me as well.

It is never too late to be what you might have been. Ohh..



Maybe if every day life was like a musical, we’d find a way to sing all our troubles away. We’d dance to joke, and still smile while singing sad songs.

But this is a dream, and when I’m walking downtown we all remain silent inside our personal hell. One by one, the shadows morph as one to create a bigger picture.

We don’t sing together, nor do we smile through sad songs.

We are all unified with our personal destiny, to be called ours in this tiny world; that is how we are human.

Today, migraine.


I started inventing things, and then I couldn’t stop, like beavers, which I know about. People think they cut down trees so they can build dams, but in reality it’s because their teeth never stop growing, and if they didn’t constantly file them down by cutting through all of those trees, their teeth would start to grow into their own faces, which would kill them. That’s how my brain was.

My 'blue-baby' supersampler.


I’m grateful for anything that reminds me of what’s possible in this life. Books can do that. Films can do that. Music can do that. School can do that. It’s so easy to allow one day to simply follow into the next, but every once in a while we encounter something that shows us that anything is possible, that dramatic change is possible, that something new can be made, that laughter can be shared. Just like my camera with x-pro film. I feel like wanna to jump-dance-jump-dance. Jyeah! Alhamdulillah.

Lastly. Thanks!



Never trust anyone who has not brought a brain with them. Such like a shit man!

It’s who I am. Put somebody else’s comfort ahead of my own? Go hop in a toilet to spare somebody else’s feelings? That’s the kinda thing you do, fella. You got everything bass ackwards. And look where it’s landed you.

Other people ought to have more consideration.

You oughtta have less. Me personally, I am opposed to all strictures. If you feel it, let it rip. If you want it, go for it. Dude’s gotta put his own interests first.


Infinite Me.


Everything must have been once. That’s why life seems to me like a ghostly undulation. History does not repeat itself; yet it seems as if our lives are caught in the reflections of a past world, whose delayed echoes we prolong. Memory is an argument not only against time but also against this world. It half uncovers the probable worlds of the past, crowning them with a vision of paradise. Regrets spring from the nadir of memory. Regression of memory makes one a metaphysician; delight in its origins, a saint.

I always see it too late. Just remember that the truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you.

Character is action and I am present.


There are no reasons for him to feel as he does. Yet, of course, like all people tend to do, he feels as he does regardless. At times he tries to change his feelings, the way he perceives things, his outlook on the world, but each time around he automatically, gradually, goes back to thinking as he thought before, and thus feeling as he did before. It is almost as if he is addicted to feeling sad, miserable and depressed. The pain he feels stops him from living his life the way he would like to live it. Most of his energy seems to go to muffling the screams he feels boiling up his chest multiple times an hour. His feelings only seem to grow murkier as time goes by. His soul seems easily hurt by even the smallest of altercations and the most common of situations. It seems as if all the protection he has built up over the years to guard himself from the outside world has turned into mush by his own state of mind. Maybe you could give trying to change your state of mind another shot, stranger. I know you feel you will probably fail again, but this time just fail better.

Don’t be afraid. The darkness you’re in is no greater than the darkness inside your own body. They are two darknesses separated by a skin. I bet you’ve never thought of that. You carry a darkness about with you all the time and that doesn’t frighten you…

So, you have to learn to live with the darkness outside just as you learned to live with the darkness inside.



‘I love you’ means that I accept you for the person that you are, and that I do not wish to change you into someone else. It means that I will love you and stand by you even through the worst of times. It means loving you even when you’re in a bad mood, or too tired to do the things I want to do. It means loving you when you’re down, not just when you’re fun to be with. It means that I know your deepest secrets and do not judge you for them, asking in return that you do not judge me for mine. It means that I care enough to fight for what we have and that I love you enough not to let go. It means thinking of you, dreaming of you, wanting and needing you constantly, and hoping you feel the same way for me.

Whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody but yourself.

Forget the shit and move on.


Listen up. I know the shit you’ve been saying behind my back. You think I’m stupid. You think I’m immature. You think I’m a malformed, pathetic excuse for a font. Well think again, nerdhole!

Push to start.

Today, just like every other day, I wake up empty.
Take down a musical instrument.
I let the beauty that I love be what I do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

Open the door and start to studying people without books. 
That people without brain and soul.

See ya!
God speed!

I'm limited edition.

I write differently from what I speak, I speak differently from what I think, I think differently from the way I ought to think, and so it all proceeds into deepest darkness.

If you don’t know history, then you don’t know anything. You are a leaf that doesn’t know it is part of a tree. The more you know, the more you know you don’t know

And be happy of your speculations. Don't worry. Your name, head and dignity are always at my lovely ass. You should sell your soul at the devil but I think even him doesn’t want it. Coz you are bad asshole person. Haha! Enjoy your last day before 'that' day. God speed.

Who i am? I am me. An angel.

Last Card.

That one moment when your world came crashing down. When the truth brought you to your knees, and reality hit you hard. When your vision was blurred with the tears that would not seize, and faith seemed impossible to find. That one moment, when life came slipping through your fingers, and it took all the strength in your being to hold on to whatever was left in the palm of your hand. How did that moment change you?

Did it make you braver?  Like you could still take on the rest of what you had coming, or did it break you to pieces, and leave you on the floor struggling to put them back together. The first option is what everyone wants to hold on to, and make their reality. where you actually believe that what didn’t kill you only made you stronger. Where you could find the will to rise again, and face the fears you hid behind the doors of doubt. However, a lot of people live the latter. Where pieces of yourself are scattered all around you, too broken to fix, and far too many to find. That’s when life surprises you. When it throws in someone else, just as damaged, but someone who will help put you back together. That someone is your everything. The one who picks up the pieces, and when they’re too lost to find, creates new ones in your life. The one who gives you the strength, and more importantly, the reason, to get up off the ground and start living again. The one who wills away the tears and somehow soothes the pain. The wind beneath your wings and the fire behind your flame. Who is that one? And will you choose option two, to find your everything?

Oh, FY!

"Pakai otak bukan lutut. Insan ada otak bukan hati."


People, for here I hear and over sea I see.

Cinderella walked on broken glass.
Belle loved a beast.
Snow White barely escaped a knife.

But you always keep on wrong track, some shit one.
Wake up.
Open your eyes wider that before.

You just afraid to move out of your comfort zone.

I am, I was and I will always be everything.
Your feelings are not my responsibility.
You cannot take my life away from me.
You can try to hurt me all you want and I still won’t care about you.


Behind her strong, calm exterior and her well faked smile, all her unexpressed, negative emotions and feelings are fighting to get out. The chaos inside runs her life. Her sorrow, her self-loathing, her torment, her loneliness, her disappointment, her envy, her frustration, her helplessness, her anxiety, her grief, her guilt, they are all fighting to be released into the world. One day they will break free, stranger.

Remember, everyone makes mistakes, but not everyone learns from them. That was you, stranger.

Mind Me.

After rain comes sunshine. I loves rain. Don't worry, stranger, after sunshine comes rain.

Beautifully Impractical.

Lying has a lot to answer for. Maybe, one day, we will get an answer. And if that day comes, we can immediately dismiss the answer for it will no doubt be a filthy fib. Sure, lying has a lot to answer for, but we do not ask for an answer because we owe more to lying than we may ever know.

We may debate what is truly considered a lie and what is merely a decorated truth. We may debate the moral, ethical and spiritual dilemmas arising from speaking that which is not. We may debate the point at which lies cease being compassionate and start being dishonest. We may argue that lying should be eradicated and that chastity belts should hold all lips shut lest our tongues be sullied by a sinful fabrication. And we may one day rid humanity of lying; on that same day we will stop humanity from moving forward, leaving civilisation to turn stale.

The problem with telling lies and hearing lies — even when the lie is clearly heard — is that repetition will leave an imprint; repetition of a lie will see traces of it attach to truth and mingle in memory until eventually, what is believed is merely a dull reflection of the facts.

The beauty of telling lies and hearing lies — even when the lie is clearly heard — is that repetition will leave an imprint; repetition of a lie will see traces of it attach to truth and mingle in memory until eventually, what is believed is more than the facts could ever tell.

What is a story if it is not a lie told to paint across your mind an image of what could never be? A story of forbidden love coming to be, a lie of forbidden love coming to be. A story of overcoming adversity, a lie of overcoming adversity. A story of wonders beyond imagining, a lie of wonders beyond imagining.

Stories that we tell again and again in different ways, in different forms. Repeated. Again and again. Fuck and fuck and fuck. Stories that have no basis in reality, read to us from the moment we can hear. Before we can even speak we are surrounded with repeated stories. The facts of life are permanently imprinted with the fancies of lies, and we believe in that which is not. We believe in forbidden love coming to be, we believe in overcoming adversity and we believe wonders beyond imagining simply lay around the bend.

What is innovation if it is not turning a lie into truth? A story heard or told in ones mind of something which is not; repeated again and again until actuality is a matter of course compared to the certainty of that lie behind the eyes.

Because we can tell stories and lie to ourselves and to others we can dream of more than what is, we can dream of that which is not.

You may have a heartbeat, you may breathe, eat and function, but unless you lie to yourself and convince that which is not, can be, you do not live. Keep your fucking heart to fridge. Iceberg. Throw, remove and destroyed.

Sadness can sometimes be a pleasant emotion to feel — can brings inspiration — makes feel alive. Don’t drown in your sadness, stranger, swim in it. All the positive things just left. The cuddles and the late night conversations. The love. The hope. The connection. What now, stranger? I'm stronger enough.

I am be(lie)ve.


Things that are true and I can believe things that aren’t true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they’re true or not….
I believe that mankind’s destiny lies in the stars.
I believe that candy really did taste better when I was a kid, that it’s aerodynamically impossible for a bumblebee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there’s a cat in a box somewhere who’s alive and dead at the same time… and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself.
I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do.
I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn’t even know that I’m alive.
I believe in an empty and godless universe of casual chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck.
I believe that anyone who says that sex is overrated just hasn't done it properly.
I believe that anyone who claims to know what’s going on will lie about the little things too.
I believe in absolute honesty and sensible social lies.
I believe in a woman’s right to choose, a baby’s right to live, that while all human life is sacred there’s nothing wrong with the death penalty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system.
I believe that life is a game, that life is a joke, and that life is what happens when you’re alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it.

See More. Hear More. Think More.


Most of the time I'm doing just fine. My life is balanced. I do what I loves. Of course there are insecurities and uncertainties, but it wouldn’t be life if I'm free from all doubt. I've an air of confidence about me. Many people hide their eyes from the world. Scared that people will be able to look straight in their soul, brain, heart and see all that is hidden in there. All the regrets, all the embarrassing moments, the disturbing fantasies. I looks people in the eyes like I've nothing to hide. I looks people in the eyes as if I've no past. The intensity in my eyes puts people off. They look away. People don’t just hide their eyes to hide their soul, they also don’t want to see into some stranger’s soul, scared of the unknown. What would they see if they did? Other people’s problems, doubts, fears. Their own soul is already more than they can handle. I don’t know and I don’t cares, my soul is out there either way. Are you as strong as you seem, stranger?

Goodbye, random people.


She still thinks about him a lot. They never said goodbye, they just stopped talking. That’s how she knows it is a permanent goodbye. Permanent goodbyes are rarely said out loud and almost never explained. They just are. He knew, and so did she, that they couldn’t be friends anymore after what happened. But that doesn’t mean she is at peace with it. She misses him. The way he could make her laugh and think. The way he could make her do things she would normally be too scared to do. Together they would get in all kinds of trouble. Good trouble, the kind of trouble that makes you feel alive. Now that side of her is gone. The worst thing is that he doesn’t seem to care, it looks like he is just going on with his life, like nothing of any significance happened. That hurts her more than not seeing him anymore. If only she would know he cares too, that he suffers too. But they don’t talk so she will never know. Maybe to him it looks as if you are going on with your life like nothing happened too, stranger.

Her future is so open, so undefined, so unlimited. Nothing is decided yet, she can still do everything, choose everything, go everywhere. It is excited to know her story is still incomplete, that the ending is not yet determined. At the same time it is scary, if your life can go everywhere it can also go to a dark, sad place. Sometimes she wishes it was all behind her, her whole exciting, open future. There are moments she can’t wait for her undetermined, unlimited, mysterious future to become her amazing, adventurous past. To be old, to look back at her life, to enjoy it, to know the future is safe behind her, that’s a feeling she longs for. Now she has to make it, that amazing, adventurous past, and she is not sure if she has the courage, the strength to do it. She has no idea how she wants to go about it, about making her past, but she knows she has to do it. And you will do it, stranger, just take your time. Your past will probably be long.



She doesn’t know how to live in a world filled with such shallowness. She doesn’t have the tools to thrive in a world like this, with its arrogance and its ignorance. Maybe if she was beautiful. Maybe if she didn’t have scars. Maybe if she wasn’t such an overthinker. Maybe if she wasn’t so insecure. Maybe then she could live in a world like this. Now she looks around. She sees the world. She sees nature and its beauty. And she sees that everything ugly in this world is manmade. All she can think is: ‘I do not want to be part of this species. I do not want to add to all the ugliness’. Show to yourself that people can make beautiful things too, stranger. Make something beautiful.

Fade to black.

Right before I pass out for the night — I say pass out, because I can never peacefully fall asleep. I have to be on the verge of passing out, before I will finally flop down on the bed. I ask two simple questions, just as the blackness takes me. What if I never wake up? What if I do wake up again? I am engulfed in two last feelings, curiosity and wonder. The two sensations remind me of something important; that is always my last thought before I sleep: This life is all I can ever hope for, all I could have ever want, all I will ever know.



A smile is a ---
language of agreement
language of peace
language of good looks
great weapon.

Sleep, hugs, kisses, love,
friends, family, memories, smiles, laughter, fun ---
are the best things in life are free.

Life is really short so never fail to enjoy each moment.

Kita enjoy dulu!!



"Ooh, I look cutee!" said Izz Rayyan.



We all have a story to tell. Whisper or fucking yell.



I know you’ll never know what it is to truly feel to think. This could be happy and be fine. But you cannot think beyond that point that is. You may strive to dive and drive into the infinite but the reality is every road ends, somewhere.

If you lived here, you’d know, you’d show and you’d grow. Where you go and let go and go with that. And at last you flow. To live and love in a better tomorrow, one that suggests happiness and dances with desire.

My burden is incalculable but I have little patience. Keep positive like someone always reminds me. Place revenge safely and have lots of Doa.

And I'm fine. Thank you. ILY!

Bacul tahap lapan.


Dunia maju.
Tapi kepala otak kau je lagi mundur. Siap simpan kat ceruk dapur.
Bangun la! Tengok cermin. Teliti diri kau dulu.

Jangan hanya tau nak sekat rezeki orang lain. Jangan hanya tau nak menidakkan benda yang dah terang terang betul.

Bodoh la kau!

Tapi serius kan kau bodoh. Orang lain ambil degree 3 tahun je. Kau?? 8 tahun. Jadah gila babi! Nak aku aibkan kau? Aku waras lagi. Otak pinjaman Allah ni perlu di jaga.

Pada pengaib-pengaib sekalian. Aku diam bukan bermakna aku bodoh atau takot. Aku hanya tunggu balasan je. Tuhan kan maha mengetahui. Semua berlaku kan ada hikmahnya. Jadi, tunggu dan lihat je la. Kain pengaib-pengaib akan terbuka sendiri. Hidup ni kan karma. Takkan ke mana pon.

Jangan macam babi. Walaupun merah tapi tetap haram. Kau pon hampir macam tu la. Hampir-hampir je lagi. Sikittttt je lagi.

Semoga bahagia dengan dunia bacul kau la ye.

What labels me, negates me.


I’ve learned that people will forget what they said, people will forget what they did, but people will never forget how they made me feel.

Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from inside slowly. You think that by hating me, you hurt me? No. Fucking no! Go, fuck yourself. But you have to know and remember that hatred is a curved blade. And the harm you do to me, you also do to yourself. That is actually kill yourself deeply slowly.

And I will not forgive you until the judgement day. InsyaAllah.

'Explore me’


It’s clear and I’m still
Twenty eight years old
(at least at heart I'm still younger) *smiling*


What I want is:
To read me bedtime stories,
sing me to sleep,
dream me to dreams,

And help me write tomorrow.

The Falling Star.


Everybody’s born with some different thing at the core of their existence. And that thing, whatever it is, becomes like a heat source that runs each person from the inside. I have one too, of course. Like everybody else. But sometimes it gets out of hand. It swells or shrinks inside me, and it shakes me up. What I’d really like to do is find a way to communicate that feeling to another person.

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for the adventure of being alive. It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

I want out of the labels. I don’t want my whole life crammed into a single word. A story. I want to find something else, unknowable, some place to be that’s not on the map. A real adventure. A sphinx. A mystery. A blank. Unknown. Undefined.

This is something.


Sinchan with his aunties. "Bukan acik nono la ryan.. auntie nono.." Hehehe..mana la sinchan tu faham..Yang dia tau.." tek..tek..tek..toookk..neeneekk.." Cepat la balik. Maklong rindu! Kiss kiss..mwahhhh!

Hell-O Wizards!


I never be afraid, never be afraid to raise my voice for honesty and truth and compassion; against injustice, lying and greed. Not just for you in this room, but in all the other thousands of rooms like this one today and tomorrow and next week will do this, not as a class or classes, but as individuals, men and women, I will change the earth.

Like I said I’ve never any pity for conceited people, because I think they carry their comfort about with them. Stupig.

I remember all that part so very clearly. And I remember a little later wondering why things always turn out to be diametrically opposed to what you expect them to be. It’s no good even trying to predict what this opposite will be because it always fools you and turns out to be the opposite of that, if you see what I mean. If you think this is geometrically impossible all I can say is that you don’t know my life.

The best way out is always through.

That is me.

I rise.

A very short story.


I thought, when you left
I couldn’t live another moment, I couldn’t outlast another past.


I realized:
Just another vowel
Not necessary
To form...we.

Sometimes the wrong train can take us to the right place.
So, please register your name to the hell. Haha! GL!



I had learned already never to empty the well of my writing, but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it.

Who is more to be pitied, a writer bound and gagged by policemen or one living in perfect freedom who has nothing more to say?

Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win. That is you. Real you. Can you just growns up? Oh FY!! Everyone needs a place. It shouldn’t be inside of someone else. I kept my mind on the moon. Cold moon, long nights moon.

Just remember life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself. Creatively. Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again.

Growns up.
Enjoy reading.



I have one. Inoue--

Inoue mean Inau in Kenyah language or Apa in Malay language. Seriously, it looks funny kot!
Dokna 'Inau' or Dokna 'Apa'.

Comel la. "Sigu, kenapa nama kawan sigu dokna inau (apa)?" --- kan comel tu! Lovely la weyh! Anak murid seorang rakan mengajar di Batam. Bijak dia nih. Time mengajar bukak Facebook. Baik jangan jadi cikgu la..baik jadi ciku! hahha! Terbaik. Orang semua panggil aku, Dokna. Ko sesat panggil Nurul. But okay. Nurul nama sopan. Tq dol! Ko sorang je cukup panggil aku Nurul. Orang lain takyah! Kaki aku bagi nanti. Haha!

Hakuna Matata!




hidup penuh dengan kemunafikan--
di tipu, dibohongi, dikhianti--

Pedih? Tapi itukan cara terbaik untuk buka mata pada realiti.

Just like SARCASM lah!
Thats new body's natural defense against STUPID person.
Totally like you. My ass-old-friend. Oh, not really friend, some beggar actually.
May your God bless you.

Snare breath.

Highlife. :))


Erm..almost a year i didn't updated any words--blessed word.

So, hello world.
It's 11.11.11; 22:33pm. Lucky? Not really. Just some shit number i guess.
I'm fresh today.



It is sad. Totally sad. My uncle just passed away.
To uncle "Pakcik pergi mengadap Ilahi. Semoga ditempatkan digolongan orang beriman & dirahmati olehNya. InsyaAllah, syurga buatmu."

Please pray for him.
We will meet you soon.