I’m always like this; once I blog, I write endlessly.


And then I’ll go on a long hiatus wtf. Please bear with me *sighs*



I’m gonna start off by posting a picture of me falling flat on my butt on the slippery ice. Faiz saw this and instantly snapped it. Thank you, thank you.




One look at this picture and people go, WTH IS SHE DOING??

Well, I was trying to dry my sock tadaaaa! I’d accidentally dipped my shoe in the stream during hiking (typical pfft)  and there’s no way I could walk in a sodden sock for another 2 hours.

So I decided to be smart (A BIG QUESTION MARK HERE) and try to squeeze the water out with a, er, rock.

I mean, I saw a lot of mak cik basuh kain tepi sungai do this?




Guess what- IT DIDN’T WORK!!! My sock ended up with holes in it. I had to throw it away after that wahahaha.

But because it was so cold, my feet went numb. So wet or not, it didn’t make any difference actually cheesecake.


Ok dah, I’ve bribed you people with douched moments of mine, now let’s talk about the real thing. 


April 6th, 2011

I haven’t written properly for so long, I thought I didn’t have it in me to do so now.

I’ve been to so many places for the last 2 weeks; posed for what must had been hundreds of photos; struck in awe of the magnificence that had seemed so surreal.

I had been stuck in situations I never thought I’d encounter, felt the bittersweet of it all. And yet now, the prospect of having to go back to reality in a week’s time makes me feel relieved. Oddly so.

There’s a lot to be digested, that’s how I see it. Of wanting to fathom out more out of it all, to know for sure there’s a meaning to everything.

Maybe it’s just a part of growing up. But it feels as if I’d left my heart somewhere along this journey.

And now I couldn’t find it.


I wrote this sometime last year, somewhere in Europe. But somehow, I’d never gotten around publishing it. Maybe it sounded too emotional, too candid. Maybe I wasn’t really sure what it was I was looking for.


During one of the last few nights in Paris, we were just chilling around in the apartment, laughing and reliving all the stuff we’ve gone through together in the past month. And I remember saying this,

“You know what? I feel empty.”

Everyone looked at me weirdly.


I couldn’t find the words to describe how I felt.

One of the sisters visiting from Malaysia once said this,

“Travelling is fun, yes. You take pictures with buildings and people, but at the end of it, what is it that you get, really?”


And I remember thinking at that time what she said didn’t make any sense to me. You get a lot outta travelling ok. The list is endless.


But after coming back from Europe, I started to understand what she meant. While it’s fun getting to meet new people, experiencing foreign cultures, sampling authentic food straight off the menu, at the end of the journey, you gotta bring something with you back home.


No, not souvenirs. And no, not those chocolates you stuff in your backpack either.


There has to be some meaning, some depth to everything we do. Moments as such are easily smudged by time, its whiff fading slowly as we get on with life, leaving only a faint trail.  The chocolate box gets empty, the postcards hidden away in the drawer.


Remember them by your faith, then maybe, maybe you wouldn’t forget.