God, it's been a while...

"One thing that I don't understand about exams is this: Why is our future, our entire life, determined by a single piece of paper, your memory and how well you were that day?"

To be honest, I had actually planned to post in October, but one thing led to another, and now it's November. Price of procrastination, I guess. I did plan to write the personalities (as how I see it) of each of my classmates, as well as a random amount of friends not from my class. Oh well. Guess that'll have to wait.

Anyways, since I'm typing stuff now, I'm not gonna go into detail about my life at the moment (probably not, though. For all I know, I might get so used to blogging again that I'll start spilling all of my secrets. Again), so I'll just mention a dream that I had recently.

It was a really weird dream, but even though I had it a few nights ago, I can still remember it quite vividly. It started out normal enough.

Wait, scratch that. It was weird from the beginning. I remember it started with me going into a room, which was like a party theme going on (note here: not the teen party where people dance around like uncontrolled monkeys, but the kind of party where adults go to and... Talk. Not much of a party, really) and one of my best friends were there. I saw Danny and his family were there, and we were started catching up, chatting, basically having a great time from just talking. God, I miss him. That dream just made me realize how much.

After the talking, and a few feeble attempts at getting him to sleep over so that we could have more fun together, I decided to walk out of the place. As soon as I left the room, the dream seemed to skip to the future a bit, and it was suddenly 2009, and we were back in school. The way the dream moved on, it was kinda like how the movies do it, skipping loads of time effortlessly. (You know what I'm talking about)

I went into a classroom, and it was March. The classroom was one of my junior's class, and they were all talking together and hanging out in that room. In the dream, it was 3 girl's birthdays on that month, so the juniors were planning something for them. I just happened to be there, so I sat down and paid attention. People seemed to talk more to others, instead of to me. It was as if I wasn't there at all. Whenever I tried talking to some of the other juniors, they just ignored me point blank, without even glancing my way or acknowledging my existence. Even though I now know that it was a dream, it still hurt.

One thing was off about the planning of the party, though, and even though I noticed it in the dream, for some reason I didn't realize anything was amiss. Odd, no? Anyways, the thing that was off was the fact that junior I had my eye on (I'm not going to elaborate more, at least, not yet) had her birthday on in March, but her name wasn't in the list of the three girls that had their birthdays then.

I even remember saying (in the dream) "Hey, why isn't ******'s birthday in this list?" but for some reason, it was shrugged off. Then I all I remember was seeing her (for some reason, really close to my face, until I could see every flaw and perfection) organizing everything. In fact, there were only 5 juniors that I can recall, and 3 of them didn't mean that much to me, which was really quite interesting, in retrospect.

After that, it was suddenly at least one month ahead, and me and a couple of other prefects (again, juniors) were playing a water balloon war. I don't remember what happened during that at all, except that for some reason, no one got wet (other than the palm of our hands from holding the somewhat leaking water balloons)

So, that's it. My dream, finally written - or, typed, at least - into some sort of medium. Interpret it anyway you like. I don't mind. I've got my own interpretations, but the human mind is way too complicated for just one mere person to try to interpret and understand. Feel free to leave any interpretation(s) in the comment box.

Once again, sorry for taking up your time, thank you for reading my blog, and have a nice day.

Salut,

~Josh the Joshster~

P.S. I guess this makes it official that my blog is no longer in a coma.

Dead, ressurected, dead

"My number one philosophy in life is this: God before parents, parents before family (this means siblings, relatives, kids, spouse, etc.), family before friends, friends before acquaintances, acquaintances before strangers and strangers before myself. I don't care what you think of it, but that's how I live my life."

I don't believe it. I really don't freaking believe it. I got rejected by a girl because I was "too nice". What kind of reason is that?!

All this while, I thought that girls liked guys that were nice. Man, if what I thought was actually the opposite of what's true... Arrh! I haven't been living life properly! Ha ha, I'm just joking about that. I like the way I am, although it is a bit unsettling that girls will reject me for "being me", so to speak.

Thankfully though, the girl that rejected me wasn't the one, not by a long shot. There's loads of other girls, and like my friend says, "One girl down another 7 billion to go!". Ha ha, yeah, I thought there were more girls too. Ha ha!

Speaking of "the one"... I think I've found her. She really fits and everything. I'm skeptical though, judging by my current failures with the female species. That, and because I'm only 15. I'm not supposed to find "the one" yet. So, yeah. I'm gonna keep an eye out on here, and if I still think that she's "the one" after a period of time (I'm not gonna say when or who, in case I jinx it), I'm gonna go and ask her out.

Yes, me, ask her out. You can stop laughing now.

God, I'm addicted to this song, especially since it fits my love life exactly. Of course, I'm not going to put in the song's title or singer in here, since I know my cousins read this. Ha ha, you gotta blame them, not me.

Is it "wedding season" right now? There's suddenly so many weddings. My neighbours had weddings yesterday, and it was creepy to see a lot of people getting married at around the same time. Not only that, but my cousin, (a serial dater, by the way) got married last week. My cousin Luqman and I had to be the "security guards" for the wedding (No, really. We had to hold these spears and stand next to the bride and groom and be their guards) and it was fun. The adults couldn't make up their minds though, on what our facial expression should be. When we smiled, they scolded us. When we looked serious, they made fun of us. Nice, real nice.

The wedding was held on the Saturday after my PMR trials, (to those that don't know, PMR is Malaysia's equivalent to Britain's O levels. Or something like that) which was really convenient for me. Don't get me started on the trials. It was freaking hard! Okay, so maybe I'm over exaggerating the exams a bit, but I'm not kidding for the Geography and Life Studies papers. I got a "C" for Geography (honestly, I'm quite glad that I passed. Yes, it was that difficult) and the highest mark was 82%. Fortunately it was a guy. Go men! Ha ha, sorry, bias moment. Heh.

I'm not sure about the other papers, but I'm kinda confident that I'll be able to ace Math. Ha ha, I always ace Math, so that kinda goes without saying. (I'm not bragging, merely being honest. I'm kinda gifted at Math for some reason, so I ace it every time) I'm not too worried about my Islamic Studies, but I'm a nervous wreck for Life Studies and History. I don't know why, but I just feel un-confident about it. Yes, I know "un-confident" isn't a word. Yet. I just made it up. Sue me.

Arrrrh!!!! I don't know why my parents suddenly want to go on outings with all of us these past two days. Sure, I like hanging out with my parents and all (no sarcasm here; I really mean it), but I wanted to go to Random Alphabets' RWP (Read while Waiting Project), where everyone that joins (most of them Random Agents - I'm one of them, for your information) is trying to promote reading. It's a good cause, and I love doing anything that RA's leader Zain H.D. can think of. His plans are always fun, and they always have a good message of some kind.

Unfortunately, I couldn't go. It was being held simultaneously with other cities like Melbourne, Brisbane, Sydney, Singapore to name a few. To those that went, tell me what happened! Was it successful? Has reading been promoted at all? I need to know!!!

Anyways, I went and watched a few movies with my family, and the movie we first wanted to watch was "Don't Mess With The Zohan". That was one of our biggest mistakes ever. There was so many perverted and dirty scenes in it that I'm shocked that it's rated "U"! We blamed Dad for the choice, because he chose that movie. Ha ha, yeah. The next day, (which was yesterday) we watched "Wall-E". To those that haven't watched it yet, I highly recommend it! Wait, lemme just emphasize it a bit more. I highly recommend watching it!

I watched it twice and I loved it both times. Once was with my cousin, which was earlier in the week and the other time was with my family yesterday. Both times, I laughed and cried (yes, I cried. Just because I'm a guy doesn't mean that I'm devoid of any feelings. And just 'cause I cried doesn't mean that I'm a wuss, a sensitive romantic or a homosexual!) at all the same times. 8.5 over 10 (it's not 9.5 because the opening was kinda... Slow, to be honest). Zohan gets 5, but only because I'm in a good mood right now.

School's gonna start tomorrow. I'm not sure whether to be anxious, worried or relieved. So I'm gonna be all three. On the one hand, I'll finally be able to meet my friends again, I'm gonna get my exam papers and see how badly (or, if a miracle happens, good) I did, and I'll be able to see the girl I think is "the one" plus I get to finally do something, instead of stay at home doing nothing but watch TV and... *Shudder* Study. On the other hand... It's school. You can see my obvious dilemma on what emotion to be feeling, don't you?

Right, then. This will probably be my last blog post until about 18th of October. The reason being my PMR is coming soon, and I have to study an extra extra amount. Yes, the extra was doubled on purpose for emphasis. *Sigh* I'm gonna miss blogging. And reading people's blog. And annoying people in cyberspace until they log out. Good times, good times... Ha ha, I guess I'm going to end this post now. It's getting a wee bit too long.

Salut,

~Josh the Joshster~

P.S. Here's a post for people who want to understand Islam accurately:

Ten Things People Should Know About Islam

P.P.S. Luqman, I want my pencil case back!

Back home

"There's something wrong with the saying Home Sweet Home. There's nothing sweet about it. But... I'd rather be home than anywhere else."

I'm back home. I'd have posted sooner, but I wasn't allowed online. But when I sneaked on, BlogSpot wouldn't let me post anything for some reason. Finally, since I'm finally doing touch-ups on my History folio, I took this opportunity to blog. I'm going to talk about what happened the last few days. Be warned. This post will be very long. Even for my normal standard.

On Saturday morning, my sister and I had to get up early to go to the Islamic camp. It's by YMP. That's Young Muslims Project, by the way. They have a FaceBook group, so check it out when you get the chance to. Or if you're interested. Whichever one comes first.

Obviously, we got there late. My Dad was sending, what do you expect? Although, to his merit, this time we only got lost, instead of Dad's usual lateness. It's kinda an inside joke now, about my Dad's "punctuality". (Whenever he fetches me from school, there's a 99% chance I'll get home late).

We first introduced each other. Except, though, there was this nice little twist. We had to introduce someone else. The person beside us, to be frank. We had to introduce his/her name, two things (s)he likes and two thing (s)he dislikes as well as their favourite animal. Me and the two people that introduced each other (yeah, we were weird in that while most of the people were in pairs, we were in threes). The guy on my right was Daniel; he was introduced by the guy on his right (Hadi). I introduced Hadi, and Daniel introduced me. It's kinda confusing to tell you without showing any pictures, so I hope you understand.

After the half hour break, we had a workshop on empathy. We were basically learning how to see from the other person's point of view. In essence, what we were doing was learning how to solve conflicts better. We did some role play, and I was in the second set. (I'm proud to admit that I volunteered without hesitation - in front of around 60 people) Our "argument" was this: I was the captain of a football team, and I just took out our strikers. Because of that, we lost. The vice-captain (the guy I'm "arguing" with) was angry at me. Apparently, our argument was so convincing that the speaker (Kuranda Seyit) decided to intervene. He said that it seemed like I was about to beat Marwan (the vice-captain) up. I need to note here that he's taller and older than me. Which kinda made that statement funny. Of course, ever since that role play session, everyone knew me as "captain". Especially during the "Free and Easy" session.

After we had our lunch and our Zuhur prayers, we had another talk. This time, it was about boy-girl relationships. Boy, was that talk interesting. Now, I'm not gonna go into any details, but basically we were talking about how to have a halal relationship. Like, getting our parent's blessings, and etc. Well, as you can expect, we were so interested in the talk that we ended up skipping our tea break. Which then, of course, ended up with us not being able to complete another session called "The Great Debate". Don't ask me what it's about, 'cause I have no idea. But I think it involves a debate, though.

Then, probably because we messed up the schedule, we had a really fun game called "When the big wind blows". Someone has to stand up, and say, "The big wind blows for [insert something like, "everyone wearing black"]", and those that have it [in this case, are wearing black] have to get up and sit at another chair. Yeah, that was really fun.

Since our plans were messed up, we went straight to "Free and Easy" (remember that I mentioned it earlier?). Here, we had 2 whole hours to do whatever we liked. We first played some soccer, and I remember painfully when someone - I think it was Mamoug - kicked the ball very very hard and it hit me in my most sensitive area.

Yes, yes, I know it's funny, but c'mon, don't laugh that much!

Before that, though, everyone on my team were calling "captain" (because of the role playing thing), even though I clearly wasn't. It's kinda our inside joke, if we ever meet again. Heh. After the girls complained that they weren't having any fun, we decided to play kickball. Which was really interesting, since none of us had ever played it before. Heck, none of us even played baseball before. (Kickball is kinda like that... Hard to explain. Meh) It was boys against girls. The first round, us guys were losing 7-6. Then, the game ended with 8-8. Yeah, it was a draw. But if the guy (dang it, I can't remember his name!) had caught the ball, we'd have won 8-7! Well, what can you do?

After we had dinner and did our Maghrib prayers, we watched a documentary by Kuranda Seyit - one of the speakers. It was about his life in Australia, being a Muslim immigrant from Turkey. It was beautifully made, and I think only a beast from the dark (i.e. something not human) wouldn't have felt touched by it. It was really amazing. I might be able to get the CD one day (most of us wanted it), and if I do, I'll be sure to lend it to you. (Note: only applicable to people that I know personally) Before we left, we had a cool game where the person says a scene [say, a battlefield] and everyone has to do something that will complete the scene yet harmonize the situation.

Example, the scene is "a war zone". People ended up walking to the "stage" doing war poses. Some people were medics. I myself was an infantry unit that was killed by behind. Remember, we weren't supposed to do something that stood out. We're supposed to do something that'll harmonize the place. As an example, our first scene was "pasar malam" (night market, Malaysian style), and it was a catastrophe. The stalls were a mess. The road was missing (because everyone was so jumbled up), and there was a motorcyclist in the middle of the stalls.

But the last one, "Hari Raya celebrations" (Eid celebrations), was perfect. There were some people playing with those cannon fireworks ourside; I was messing my friend's hairstyle, and he was pouring a drink for a girl; the said girl was giving her friend some food as well as having her cup poured with water; some people were playing PS2 in the living room; others were seeking forgiveness from parents; there were some that were checking to see if the money they got were real... It made everything perfect, since it all fit in. Man, that was the best game, ever. We were sad when we had to go to sleep. (One rule for the game: No talking allowed)

Then, we ate supper (I'm still unsure what's the difference between supper and dinner) and went to sleep. Before I forget, remind me to shoot Faheem countless times with a BB gun. He kept shooting everyone that passed his bunk with an electronic BB machine gun. Man, that hurt...

We were supposed to sleep at 11.30, but because we talked so much, we ended up sleeping at around... Oh, I dunno, sometime around 2? Yeah, around there.

The next day, we woke up at 5.30, for Fajr prayers. Five freaking thirty! That's only, what? 3 hours of sleep! Thankfully, I managed to get up. I'm gonna thank Aiman here, for waking me up by hitting my butt with a towel (or pillow - I can't really remember). Good times, gooood times...

At 6.30, there was aerobics. The majority of us, though, went to sleep instead of exercising. The next workshop would be at 9, so we wanted to get as much sleep as possible. Yeah, yeah, we should have slept earlier. Sue us for wanting to socialize more before going to bed. Heh.

After we all woke up and refreshed ourselves, we had a workshop on how to make a mark as a Muslim. How to leave an impression on the world as a Muslim, and in a good way, not like those stupid suicide bombers. A note here: Islam bans Muslims to react with violence, unless to defend yourself. It's filled with religious stuff, so I'm going to have to stop talking about this one, since I'm pretty sure not everyone that reads this is a Muslim.

The next workshop was really interesting. It was generally about "How to be a teenage Muslim and still be cool". They kinda just taught us that we weren't really restricted because we didn't want to, say, smoke, or drink beer, or do drugs. But they were restricted, because that's all they can think about to have fun. After all, as a Muslim, who says we can't bike ride? We can't rock climb, parachute, scuba diving, swim and all those other fun things?

There was more, but this blog is getting a wee bit too long, so I don't want to bore you with more meaningless details. A little too late, but meh.

After the Zuhur prayers and lunch, (I was "volunteered" to be the Imam; Oh, and I forgot to mention. On Saturday, for a reason I can't remember, Kuranda said that I was probably going to be the next Prime Minister! Ha ha, is that funny or what? ... Come on, laugh!) we had a really nice talk by a professor. I'm not gonna say her name, (partly because I don't want to, and partyly because I... Forgot) but she was a really good speaker. This talk was about sex before marriage.

Yes, you read right. Sex. Of course, it wasn't about sex in detail. It was about how we reach sexual maturity after puberty (10 years old nowadays) and by the time we get married (30, on average). That's 20 years! 20 years! Well, because of that, we obviously became "creative", so to speak. You can see it in loads of teens. In fact, this is the reason why teenagers end up having sex before marriage. Now I'm gonna share some cool facts and statistics that I learned or were told in the camp. Prepare to be amazed.

For every baby born, there is at least two abortions.

Out of 887 teenage girls, aged 13 - 16, from around 40 different schools, only one was a virgin.

A survey was done to 18 year olds. 40% admitted that they started dating when they were 13 (I'm part of the 60%! Woo! Ha ha). By the age of 18,

84% admitted to having held hands.
85% admitted to kissing and/or necking.
83% admitted to petting.

~> 9% have had pre-marital sex. Most of them were boys.

All I can say to those are... Wow. People are... Wow. Yeah, I can't really say much, can I? I'm almost speechless. Now, to those think that they're ready to have sex, read this. Please.

You're Not Ready To Have Sex If...

~You think sex = love.
~You're afraid to say no.
~You think everyone else is doing it.
~You don't know the facts about pregnancy.
~You don't think a woman can get pregnant the first time.
~It goes against your religious and moral beliefs.
~You're doing it to prove something. (*Cough loser cough*)
~You think it will make your partner love you.
~You think it will make you love your partner.

To every teenager out there... It's okay to wait! Save sex for marriage! (Yes, it's "save", not "safe")

We had a final game, which was called "Zip Zap Boing". I'm not going into details here, because I'm too lazy to. If you wanna know how it's played, lemme know, and then I'll let you know. Oh, and I forgot to mention, we had two other activities. Both included non verbal communication, and writing was not allowed. For one, we had to construct a "sacred space" (a place you go to feel calm, relaxed, at ease, etc.; My groups' "sacred space" was the stars: You just have to look up, and it's always there.).

In the other activity, we were grouped up in pairs, and one person had to give instructions on how to draw, and the other person wasn't allowed to speak. The person with the picture had to say stuff like, "Okay, draw a triangle. Now another triangle below it. Next, under the second triangle, draw a horizontal rectangle." for, say, a tree. I apparently didn't get the memo, cause I was saying stuff like, "Alright, draw a horizontal line. Then, draw two vertical lines going downwards on both sides. Then connect the two vertical lines together with a horizontal line." for a square. Amazingly, it turned out really good.

We had to go home not long after. My sisters brought Aboo, and everyone was fawning over him. He ended up showing off, by climbing on my head and looking at everyone. Ha ha, he was so cute. We took a group picture, and went home. The people I met there... Marwan, Amar, Syafiq, Faheem, Shakeen... It's gonna be hard to forget about them. I just hope that I manage to keep in touch.

Well, Monday ended up being a really uninteresting day compared to the weekend. In fact, I skipped school. Official reason? I had a headache. (It wasn't that bad, though. It was just a reason). Unofficial reason? I skipped it. Yeah, it's a good thing that we're no longer learning anything, and it's all just pop quizzes and work sheets. I was so not in the mood of any of that.

I came to school on the other days. Well, I'm gonna end this long post now.

Salut,

~Josh the Joshster~

Edit: I forgot to mention, the reason I didn't say we prayed Asar or Isyak is because we combined them. We can do that, if we're out of our hometown. Oh, and to those interested, Anwar Ibrahim's daughter, Hanna, was there. Just wanted to let you know.

Feelings unleashed, another side of me is shown

"When I reassure you that I'm fine, don't believe me. I just don't want you to be burdened by my problems. The smile you see me give you is a lie. I am not fine!"

It's either the exams, her or my OCD, but I'm feeling totally depressed. Nothing I do is right, for the first time I'm beating myself up for every small mistake I'm doing, I'm turning into a pessimist and I'm even having suicidal thoughts. If it wasn't for a few of the people that care (namely Mark, Tom, Farah, Ming Yi, Razleen and Marinah) I'd be acting on them. It's pathetic that three of them are imaginary. At least my daily therapeutic dose of crying helps me somewhat. Okay, maybe not daily, but still, every few days.

My emotional state of mind is all messed up. I feel like slugging my best friend and helping people that hurt me. This blog might end up becoming an emo blog, so if that happens, I'm so very sorry. I never wanted it to be that way. If it's one thing I never ever want to be called, it's "emo". My niceness is because I want to give what I never got. Unconditional love. My parents only want me to get good grades so that they have bragging rights. They only want me to get a good job so that I can give them more cash.

Depression is getting much much worse these days. I could blame my exams, because I'm pretty sure I failed everything except Math, Science and English. Ironic, the only subjects that I didn't study for are the ones I'm pretty sure I'll pass. Yet another oxymoron of my pitiful and miserable life. I guess the best oxymoron for me would have to be "Happy Depression". Yeah, that would probably be the best one of all. Or maybe "Depressed Happiness". Yeah, that'll do as well.

OCD is acting up even worse. I'm forcing my sisters to hit me evenly when they playfully hit them. I'm making messes just so that I can clean them up. When I go near the refridgerators in my house I'm opening them up all the time, to check if there's food in it. The depression that comes with OCD is becoming even worse. I can't even be around people. I'll still feel depressed. It used to be so simple, to control this. Depression was usually when I was alone, and I didn't make messes just so I could clean them. I didn't force my sisters do hit me evenly, because I often got them to do it later. I can usually last a few hours. Not anymore.

Suicidal thoughts are a regular occurrence now. I'm fighting against them, but I fear it's a losing battle. My only barriers against them are only Mark and Tom, but they're imaginary, so I don't know how long until time's run out. Everyone just sympathizes, but none really care. I might not be here long, and I hope God forgives me for whatever I may do to myself in the next few hours, days, weeks, months and years. If I die before my next post is published, read "Perceptions Of Stuff and Whatnot". It's on my links. I've already told her to do this. If I don't do a new post after a month, you should then go to it.

It doesn't help that she's treating me like garbage. It doesn't matter if that's only what it seems like or if it's just me interpreting it wrong. It's not as if it'll help. Pathetic of me, not being able to swear, even in this kind of state. Noble, pathetic... It's still the same difference. I'm in love with her (yes, I'm breaking my earlier promise to not talk about her anymore), and the more she treats me like this the more I love her. The more I try to hate her the more I fall deeper in love. No matter what I say or do to her, no matter what she does to me, I'll still forget my self worth and keep on loving her. My heart and head say I deserve better, but my soul disagrees. She's probably the best there is for me, since we have so much in common, and that's what hurts even more. The one that's most likely my soulmate is the one that makes me feel like a carcass on the road side, hit by a car. Feeling like an invisible bug that's about to be squashed. In other words, pure torture coupled with total helplessness.

Friends are nonexistant nowadays. Even my neighbour is no longer close with me. The closest thing I have to a friend are my imaginary friends. Once again, they are mentioned. I listen to everyone's problems, I'm always the "rock" they need to bring them down to the ground. The one to reassure them that everything is fine. But who is there to listen to me? None take the time to actually sit down and just listen. They always attempt to give solutions. This is the reason why I don't talk about myself. You see me smiling on the outside, but I am actually dying on the inside. I need someone to be my "Satellite Sibling" for my problems, someone I can talk to and trust no matter what. Someone who'll just listen to my problems no matter how bad they have it themselves. Someone who won't sympathize, someone who won't advice. Someone who listens.

Inspiration is finally gone. No more poems can be written. All my dreams are semi-lucid, just like reality. I know that it's bad, but I can't do anything to change it. The smile you see plastered on my face is fake for a reason. I have nothing to smile about. You see me laughing because I'm trying to convince myself that I'm okay, that everything is fine. But I know deep down that's it's not. It's not even that deep. I am driven by this desire to fit in, to be accepted, to be cared about. I always fail at this, because I have no idea how to do it.

If only life came with an instruction manual, because I'm sure I'm doing it all wrong. So what else is new? I do that all the time. Something wrong, that is. I've tried drugs before. The high was amazing, but the headaches hurt too much. But now, will all of these problems, I feel like taking my inhaler and getting high once again. Not much of a solution, but it'll do. At least this way I have a few minutes of bliss, of detachment from my troubles and society. I'm fighting a losing battle with myself to stop from doing bad things.

I'm sick of being the nice guy, where I'm always being used, taken for granted. I can't tell my friends from opportunists. Once again, I'm being hypocritical, also using and manipulating others. But that's how I live, and I don't know what else to do. No one wants to help, and whenever I hint or say that I need help, I am suddenly alone. Alone, by myself, with no one to turn to, no one to trust. I want to be the jerk, but I just don't have the heart to do it, to be one. My mouth says one thing, my actions another.

My so called friends have left me, and I'm in the desert of depression, all by myself with no water of hope nor do I have protection from the burning heat of the Sun of pessimism. My friends who have the shade of optimism have all left to the city of happiness, and the airport of safety is nowhere in sight. Because of this, I keep seeing fake hope mirages thinking I can get a free lift to the town of salvation, but no, once again my hopes are dashed. The vultures of suicide are hovering above me, waiting for me to mess up and embrace them.

Needed metaphors to cope with my problems, but making unwanted problems for people trying to help. Praying works a bit. Whenever I'm in prayer, I feel refreshed, happy and the space in my stomach where the depression is disappears. But as soon as I'm done praying I'm back to square one, feeling depressed all over again.

Funny things are hard to laugh at, and I'm now laughing at the things that aren't funny. Examples of this are when I laugh at death. When I laugh at destruction. Misery isn't spared. I'm probably a sadist that loves misery. Maybe that's why my life is all messed up. Things are no longer cool, I find the people that I love and care about (friends, family, etc.) are now boring, people not worth fighting for.

One of the ways that I wish I died was in combat, but I keep seeing myself killed by being hit by a car. Maybe that way it wouldn't hurt so much that way. I keep thinking on whether I'd go to Heaven or Hell when I die. I keep thinking about wanting to go to Heaven but wondering how Hell would be like.

The only good thing from this depression is that I'm thinking more about life, being even more philosophical. Trying to solve life's problems, thinking that I have what it takes to do it. I know that I don't, but the tiny hope that I can do it keeps me going. That's the only thing. Yes, I know that I'm selfish, because when I die everyone that really cares about me will lose a bit of them inside, but I don't care. It's how I feel. Does this qualify as a call for help? I neither know nor do I care. All I know is that Death is calling me, closer and closer it's voice is everyday. One day it will be here and I won't have time to repent, I won't have time to do all the good things I wanted to. The time of "What if's" and regrets will happen, on my last seconds of life. I wonder what my last thoughts would be on my last few seconds. I fear and feel grateful happy that I might not live past my 20's. I don't care about age. I want to go to Heaven as soon as possible. Heck, I might end up being a martyr.

Every day I am presented with a new problem, and solutions never appear. No matter how trivial or how huge, I don't think I can carry the weight of all of these problems. Little by little, these small problems end up becoming huge and unbearable to lift, let alone carry. I hope with what little hope I have left that I never live that long, or that maybe I get solutions to my problems.

I love going to school, not because I love studying. Maybe I do like it, but I go to school to be around people I can talk to. I might not be able to get less problems, or more solutions, but at home I can't talk to anyone. My parents? They just criticize my every move and actions. They tell me to become an adult, to become a man, but they treat me like a child. My sisters don't listen, they talk. They can't understand what I'm going through. My brother? He's too young. I don't want to stress him out at a young age. If I had to choose one person in my family that I love, it would be my brother. One of the reasons why I'm still alive is because I don't think he'd be okay if I died. But once he's independent, then it'd be one less thing that's holding me back from taking life-threatening risks.

Music, the one thing I normally go to to be "healed" is now worth nothing. It justs fill up this empty void of emptiness. Music no longer inspires me, nor does it help me with life. From Sum 41, my favourite band, to dumb singers like Hannah Montana to legends like Busted and to underrated bands like Fountains Of Wayne, I no longer feel content from music. I sing the music to feel like there's someone with me. I feel alone otherwise. It's not like my imaginary friends are there all the time. Then again, they're appearing more and more often. Signs things are going bad in my life?

I keep telling myself to be strong, to keep fighting. But for what? For myself? It's not as if I will be missed much if I was gone. Sure, people will grieve that I was gone. But a few months, maybe a couple of years, I will just be a distant memory to my loved ones. I don't even think my family will still think of me that often. When my paternal (and favourite) grandfather died, my aunts and uncles, and my dad, cried for a few months. Then, everything went back to normal. It was as if he had died for years. I'm expendable, someone that, when gone, won't really be missed.

My mouth says that I trust no one, but my actions keep making me trust everyone, even those that backstabbed and hurt me. Why can't I learn from my mistakes? What am I doing that's so wrong in my life that's making me deserve this? I can't have done something so bad until nothing goes right in life? Nothing may be the wrong word, but still. Very few things goes right. Heck, I can't even get girls to like me "in that way". Trivial, but still important to a guy. Whenever I see my schoolmates, all the jerks, the losers, the, the... The ones that are usually the opposite of good can get a girl "just like that". What does it take? Trivial, but I still stress a lot on this.

I don't care what you think of me when you read this post. I don't mind, because you don't matter. This blog was made specifically for me to put everything on my mind out. Be it sad and emotional, happy go lucky or even sadistic. As long as it's true and from me, it'll be written here.

Food no longer has taste. It all feels the same in my mouth. When I take a bite into it, be it a cookie, chocolate, rice, sandwiches. It doesn't matter what it's made from, what flavour it should have. Bland and tasteless. That's what it all taste like. I guess this is also added to my cause of depression.

In the end, it's not one huge thing that's causing this. It's many many small things, trivial things. They all add up to this one huge massive ball of depression. I guess I'm really emotional right now, because things keep going badly nowadays. Hopefully things will become better, soon. I really hope soon. God, things are being so emo. I keep saying to myself, "phase phase phase, please let it be a phase!".

On a brighter note, I'm listening to some nice music from Fountains Of Wayne. Sense of happiness is coming slowly. Baby steps, people. Wow, I never knew I could ever write so much for one post. This is amazing. Now if only I could type as much about non emotional stuff.

If I'm still here,

Till next time,

~Josh the Joshster~

Now, about my trip...

"Remembering things is easy. The only reason people think it's hard is because they have a bad memory. Or amnesia."

Hey guys! Missed me? Didn't think so. Haha, well, I have a reason why I haven't been posting for a while. My exams are coming up, and I've been studying. Yeah, right. Playing games is more like it! So, yeah, I'm just ditching studying to blog about my exciting life.

Umrah was pretty much indescribable. The things we did and the places we went... How do I start? Well, I'll just begin wherever I want to. Which means I guess I'll start from when we got off the plane to Madinah. Not sure if I spelled that right. Hopefully I did.

When we went there, we managed to visit the Masjid Al-Nabawi. We managed to see Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him)'s tomb. One again, it was indescribable. Dang it, I can't really tell you how it was. It pretty much was amazing.

The "trip" really taught me humility. The reason is because to do Umrah at Makkah (which we did 3 times, by the way) guys are not allowed to wear anything that's stitched. So we can't wear any kind of clothes. What did we wear to cover up? Towels. Long long towels. The only thing keeping it up was a belt. If that couldn't teach me humility, I don't know what will.

Anyways, we did the Umrah in that condition. We had to walk around the Ka'bah 7 times to cleanse up of our sins. (Being so close to the Ka'bah was touching. I remember me and my sister crying) Then we have to walk from Mount Sa'fa to Mount Mawar to symbolise the walking of Prophet Abraham (Ibrahim)'s wife, looking for water for Prophet Ishamael (Ismail) while he was a baby. Finally, the cutting of the hair. I'm not sure what's that supposed to be for, so I'm not going to put something random in it's place.

Yeah, other than that, and praying, we pretty much just shopped. A couple of weird and odd things happened while we were at Makkah. They happened to me, anyways. Not sure about the rest of my family. Like, when we were doing the Tawaf (the part where we walk around the Ka'bah 7 times), and when my Dad was trying to get me to the Hajar Aswat (the holy stone), two guys suddenly came and helped us, talking in Malay. I was thinking, "Okay... How did they know we talked Malay...?" But because of them I got to kiss the stone. So all I can say is Alhamdulillah (thank's to God).

Another thing that happened is when my brother and I were waiting for our Dad to take his ablution so we could take it (we were watching after the stuff we just bought), and a guy came up to us, gave us some sticks (the ones that they used to use to brush their teeth during Prophet Muhammad [peace be upon him]'s time), and said something about loving and thanking God. But what was weirder was that it seemed like he was looking for us. You can see it on his face.

But the most weirdest thing of all is when the marble around the Ka'bah was heated by the extremely hot Sun during the afternoon, and yet when you stepped on it it still felt really cool. At times it even felt like it was very cold. In the hot streaking Sun!

Meh, I guess that's all I can talk about my trip to Makkah and Madinah. Besides, I have an exam I'm supposed to be studying for. I'll probably fail Religious Studies because I haven't studied at all yet, and the paper is tomorrow. Wish me luck! I'm really going to need it.

Till next time,

~Josh the Joshster~

Last post!!!!

"The first things are always thought upon happily, but the last of anything is often frowned upon. So treat everything as if it were your first, and never as if it were your last."

Yep. This is it. My last post.

Until 11 days, anyway. Haha, to those that I shocked, I'm just letting you know that I'm going for Umrah in Mekkah for the next 11 days, so don't expect any new posts until May. Well, today was fairly interesting. I went to tuition, and on the way there there was this accident. Someone actually died. It was both cool and scary. It actually made me think.

Life is so short.

Make the best of everyday, of every moment. You never know when it's your turn. Treat your enemies like your best friends. Your ex's as if you never went out. Love like you've never been hurt and laugh like there's no tomorrow, because technically, there never is. The past is gone. The present never happens. The future is unknown. So live accordingly. Live in the "now".

On another note, I did a this test on how fast I typed and this is what I got:

44 words

Speedtest

44?! That's it?! I am NOT that slow! So, being the stubborn thing that I am, I did it once more. This was my result:

49 words

Speed test

Actually, this is 50. But I made one mistake, and that is my final result. God, this is frustrating. Alright, one more time...

50 words

Speedtest

Dang it!!!!!!!! I got 52 words, but 2 wrong answers. Okay, LAST time! I'll be happy with my answer. (No I won't)

51 words

Speed test

Alright!!! 291 characters per minute. 51 words! That's more like it! Yes, I know. I rock. Plus, I finally beat my pet sister Reysha. The first two times she beat me by one word. One! Do you know how annoying that is?!

If you don't, it's extremely annoying. Anyways,

Till next time,

~Josh the Joshster~

EDIT: 56 words

Speed test

Sorry, couldn't resist. Heh.