Everytime i log on, i tell myself to blog.
at least write a little bit, even if its a few lines.
But, (there's always a but) i never manage to get down to it
due to no fault of my own.
Finally,for the first time in days, the bottom of my screen isn't blinking admonishingly, nagging me to click its orange-filled capacity.
That's part of my daily routine these past days since the last time i ventured out to school for the PAE briefing.
my day would start with me waking up disoriented, wondering why i'm not in school.
by the time i swallowed a late breakfast,mainly hot milo and cocoa pebbles, read the paper and tickled romie and wira under the chin, the clock on the wall would show roughly 2 pm.
Mum would be screaming at me to shower, that is if she happens to be home which is not often these past month or so.
so i'd take a shower and then laze around the house, reading an assortment of things ranging from Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibilty to archie comics and even coloured adverts issued by pizza hut to tempt us mortals into indulging in a slice of yummy cheesy pizza.
I'd read for an hour or so and then switch on the lap top and indulge in playing sims 2, controlling their every move and their lives with a fierce passion derived from the inability to somehow control mine.
The budding relationship between hotshot Carter and shy Krista, as well as the deteriorating marriage of Mary-Sue and Don, would occupy my brain cells for another hour until 5 where i'd stop and watch the Ellen Degeneras show followed by Tyra Banks if i'm up for it.
(this would be the moment when i would severely miss watching Oprah)
The night would be dedicated to watching shows until 10 when i would go online for my nightly rendezvous with Fadhilah and whoever else might just happen to be online.
By 12, Dad would be screaming for me to stop and i'd log off and go watch some movie or other until 3 in the morning when i would finally doze off.
Basically, that's my day. it's falling into such a predictable routine that i feel so encapsuled and restless with a growing need to get away from it all.
Shaf once told me that i run away from everything if i could help it.
Just run away, trying to get away from all of it.
With the misguided notion that if i run away from whatever it is, it won't be able to hurt me.
Knowing shaf, it was her own way of telling me to stop running. to stop being afraid to stare the past in the face, figuratively or literally.
In a way, it kinda worked. I'm not running anymore. maybe just jogging.
dedaun melayang ditiup bayu
menghujani bumi tanpa henti
aku berlari, diiringi daun
ingin kembali
bersendirian begini, aku benci
pelukan mesra, belaian manja
dambaan, harapan hati naluri
ku ingin ia dipenuhi erti
bukan sekadar wadah mengumpul memori
mengapa tidak saja lantang teriaknya
biar aku tahu dari mula
kau hanya berteman bersandarkan sepatah kata
akhirnya aku bersendirian berlari
berlari entah bila sudahnya
saat dikurniakan teman yang benar-benar sejati
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