Thursday, 26 March 2015

Slice #26: The Doll

With bright, dark red hair, spiking in all directions. Her smile rolling down for her left ear, above her chin, and up to her right ear. Her boneless arms swerving around and over her head, clamping on the snow white handle. Her small, tiny torso, no beggir than my pinky, was dressed in a deep dark oceanic blue. A thick cloth with stripes yelling 'See me! See me!', blanketed her twig legs. Her tiny feet peeped from under the skirt. She is a quiet girl, but a very loud one.

Tuesday, 24 March 2015

Slice #25: Friends

It started with one,
Few months later there were two.

Before the second came,
The first and I were crazy.
We screamed and shouted,
Running and jumping,
All over the place.
The air filled with laughter and joy.

Once the second came,
I enjoyed the fun we had,
We talked and cheered.
Sitting and waving our arms,
All over the place.
A quiet friendship.

Two of different personalities,
Who knew the two would get along,
But really they didn't.

And I stood there watching,
Coming in sometimes,
Just to make sure,
They didn't pull eachother's hair.

Slice #24: Reminders

I have many reminders of the places I used to be in by different objects or scents, and sounds. But a lot of the reminders would have to be the sounds. And the sound equivalent to music. Music is my life, I listen to it all the time. And because of that if I listen to a certain song a lot in a certain area, the song will soon be representing the country in my head.

For me I now live in Malaysia, but I used to live in Qatar. I have lived there for five years, and during those five years I have listened to many songs over and over again. Some songs too many times I got irritated a lot. I love a lot of music. And I hated a few.

Once I moved to Malaysia, I would once and awhile hear those songs I loved on the radio or my "new" friends would be singing it. But I wasn't able to listen to them. The songs I used to love, I wasn't able to hear again without crying. And I'm not that type of person who cries. But those songs overwhelm me. Even the songs I hated I would cry. All the memories fill my brain.

The reminders of the country I used to be in overwhelms me. Less then it used to. I want to go back but I am happy here too.


Monday, 23 March 2015

Slice #23: Emotions

I want to be an expert in emotions. Nothing to do with a job or anything, but just to understand them. I go through many emotions a day. Everyone does. But why?

We have so many emotions. Good ones and bad ones. Good ones such as being happy or cheerful, maybe wonderous. Those would be the good types. But then there are the bad emotions, such as being sad, mad, and having fear. Emotions is something we are born with. But I have many questions to do with emotions.

How are emotions triggered?

How does it effect who we are? 

Does it effect out health in anyway?

If you are sad, is there a time limit untill you calm down?

Can you fully hide your emotions for people around you?

Is there a main reason for us to act the way we do when we are sad, stress, angry, or scared?

Do different actions show our emotions, or is it just something we do everyday?

Is there an amount of emotions? Or are emotions not countable?

If you have a strong emotion in a dream woulf you actually feel it in real life? Either during or after the dream.

Can emotions be effected by weather?

Is there an emotion to not feel anything at all?

This are just a few of my questions. There are main things that I want to learn:

  • Signs of different emotions
  • Reactions to other's(family, friends) emotions
  • Dealing with emotions
  • Letting go of terrible feelings(things that have happened in the past. Loss of something or someone meaningful, if someone hurt you, ect.)

I think emotions is important to understand so we can control them. That is why I want to build further on the knowledge I have with emotions.

Friday, 20 March 2015

Slice #20: Rain

Rain has a mind of it's own. One moment the sky is bright and blue. The next moment it is dull and grey. The clouds come rushing in, covering the sky in a cozy, thick blanket. Blocking out the tipy tops of buildings.
The rumbling sounds of the sky's belly. The clouds crying for who knows what reason. Zapping objects from all the way up there to the ground we stand on. The trees and birds try to calm them down, but it isn't that easy. Soon enough they give up.
The sun trying make a break out of the clouds. Bringing the light back. The time ticks by slowly. Once the warm heat of the sun burst trough the clouds, they flee away. The sky turns back into a bright, light, shade of blue. Back to normal again.

Thursday, 19 March 2015

Slice #19: How to Write a Story?

How to withe a story with words which speaks out loud? Stories which beams with emotion and flies away with time.
How to write a story where a movie plays in you head? With full color and high definition. The stories you never want to be finished.
How to write a story that your reader would love? A story that plays in their head over and over. The one they would never forget. the stories they would read again. From start to end. But how to end a story like that?
How to end the story keeping your reader satisfied? The story then never want to end. But it did.
How to end a story?

Wednesday, 18 March 2015

Slice #18: The Beach

I remember the warm water running towards me then runnning away. Make up your mind! Come and go, come and go. The rough yet soft sand tickling the souls of my feet. Covering my toes in an uncomfertable jacket. The sun beating down on me. Yelling to go under the trees, in the cool air of the jungle. The sky says stay and play with my friend. I nod and run to play with the water. The sun shakes it's head, but smiles at the sight. Making me rise and fall, the waves wrap around me. Taking in the moment. Nothing lasts forever.

Tuesday, 17 March 2015

Slice #17: Goodbye

This could be the last time I see their face fully. Beaming with light. Our last few moments together, surrounding a glass table, stuffing donuts into our faces. talking about nothing really. Remembering what we always did together. And accompishing what we always wanted to do together(all in one night).

"Sarah, Farah!" My sister and I heard our callings from downstairs telling us we had to go. "Annika, Amira, Aila! Do you want to walk them home?" Without any question the three of them said yes.
We slowly walked downstairs. Wishing that we didn't have to be thorn apart. We walked out of their house and onto the side walk. Sadly enough our house is only a few houses away.

Once we made it there, we all took in a deep breath and hugged each other tightly. I can't believe that it is already time. There ia nothing really left to say. We stay there, huddling eachother for a few minutes. We all ended up crying as we let go of eachother.

All five of us said our goodbyes. Hugging eachother once more. My sister and I walked into our house.

Monday, 16 March 2015

SLice #16: Writing Without Sight

A fuzzy cloth covers my eyes, ticking my eyelids. My shoes digging into my thigh. Sitting on the sharp prickly ground. I hear giggles and snickers all around me. the scent of wet grass lingers through the warm summer breeze. Rusty screeching swings, piercing my ears. The sun painting my skin. "We are ready!" I raise my hands up to my eyes to take off my blindfold. Light scorces into my eyes.

Sunday, 15 March 2015

Slice #15: "Poking the Bear"

Today I wasn't in the best mood. I was bored for most of the day. I wanted to relax and stay at home but no. My mom wanted to go to the shoe fesival in KLCC. Though it ended up to have nothing there. So we ended up going there for no reason. We walked back home and I sat down and started to relax. Then, I remembered we had to go to Pavilion, for this makeover photoshoot thing my mom wanted to do. Hmph. 

I sat there on the chair while the makeup artist was poking at my eyeball, and all over my face. Afterwards, I had to listen to a guy who could barely speak english so I didn't understand what he was saying. An dos it continues with waiting for my mom to pick the photos she liked best.

The makeup was fine for about an hour until my eyes started burning. so that was another pain. I wanted to yell and scream to my mom to take it off. But she was my mom, I could not do that. I would never dare to ever do that. Unless that it is so important that I would say goodbye to the world(I die internally).

I could of lost it. But the bear is kind.

Saturday, 14 March 2015

Slice #14: Weekends

I love weekends. It's the time you finally have a break. I'm not saying I don't like school. Infact, I quite enjoy school as much as I enjoy the weekends. But you know sometimes you just want a break. A time to relax. If you're like me, when it's the weekend, I sleep late. 1:00am, 2:00am late, or "early". And because of that I wake up at 11:00am. I don't understand why I do it like that because you're suppose to be awake the same time and sleep about the same time each day. The only thing that it is mainly affecting me, is when I have to go back to school and my sleeping schedule gets messed up.

On Sunday night, I can't sleep. Because those two nights made me used to sleeping late. so then I end up sleeping a 11:00pm (and by the way, that's the earliest I would be able to sleep), but I have to wake up at 6:00, leaving me only 7 hours of sleep at the very most. And another part of my sleeping is that I wake up almost 1 or 2 times about every other night, which makes it harder for me in the morning.

Even though the weekends could be so amazing, they can ruin your next week. Or maybe it is just me.

Thursday, 12 March 2015

Slice #13: Mornings

Sitting in the somewhat dark room. Leaning against the head board of the bed im on. With my left leg dangling off the side. My right leg pointed stright towards the cabinate infront of me. My head placed on the top of the head borad, looking up at the ceiling. My arms slouched to my sides, my forearms climbing over my stomach, with my fingers playing tag with eachother. My hair having a mind of it's own, sticking out in all directions. I'm stuck in this position. Sitting on top of my thick blanket. The cool air chilling my arms and tickling the back of my neck.

The dim greenish blue light of the city escapes into my bedroom. Slipping a sliding towards the wall. I shook my head and leaned to the bedside table. I opened up my computer. Siwitching it on, I pulled out my earplugs out from my computer bag, plugging them in to the computer and in my ears. tapping my finger onto the screen. My computer switched on and I typed in my password. pressing play on the keyboard, I sat back down onto the bed, moving back into the same way by body was before. The music flowing into my ears. With the fast, sharp sounds of the gitar. With the loud thumps of the drums. And the rusty voice, sreaming into my ears.

A few minutes later my eyes start to become heavy again. I close my computer screen and pull my earplugs out and dropped them onto the top of the computer. I pull the blacket over me. I close my eyes, snuggling into my pillow. My back laying on the bed. Both of my legs stayed still side by side. My head laying on my pillow. My arms slightly bent. My fingers stop swinging all over the place, and falls onto eachother. My hair fling down slightly. The blanket placed nicly on me. Now I'm ready to get more sleep.

Beep, beep. Beep, beep. Beep, beep. 

My eyes shoot open. Really? I thought to myself.

Wednesday, 11 March 2015

Slice #12: The Time When...

The time when you don't know what to write for the slice for life. And you are just sitting there staring at your computer. What to write, what to write? You think, and think, and think, yet nothing comes to mind. I hate it when that happens. You start to get bored, then you end up doing something else. Hoping that during that time where you are doing something else you get an idea. 

There are somemay things you can't write about, but you just can't think. So many things around you but you don't know how to start or continue.

You're searching the internet, watching videos, listening to music, playing games, doing whatever you do to pass time, or maybe do your othe homework. But nothing comes to mind. At the point where you are so annoyed that you just forget about writing something. Or maybe you aren't a person that forgets and you have to keep going. It is glued into your mind, you can't do anything about it.  

You know you could write about anything, anything at all. But you just don't know. you mind is rushing, but you can't pick any of the thoughts. 'Not the right one.' 

But then  you always end up writing something. Something that popped up in your mind at the last minute. Well not really. Or maybe you see something that you want to write. Or maybe you are just like me where you end up writing something like this. But see I did write something. Yay!

Slice #11: My Sister

She should get an award. An award that states 'World's most irritating human known to mankind. She's always taking away my personal items and running away with them. And I'm like Really? But my mom tells me to 'Respect her, she is older that you.' Urgh. I can't live with that puffy haired earthling that acts like a cat. Yet I can't live without her. She is my best friend. The person I can tell all my secrets to. And stay up all night with. I trust her and she trusts me. Her lengthy legs chasing after me. My shorter ones speeding away. I run into my room, and slam the door in her sharp featured face.

A few days ago, my mom told my sister and I about when we were younger. Where my sister stole a block from me, I took another block and smaked it onto her forehead.

But I still love her. :)

Tuesday, 10 March 2015

Slice #10: Currently I Am...

Currently I am...
Listening to rock. Becuase I'm 'Sleeping with Sirens'.
Reading a 'Twisted' story. Not reading from a book.
Looking outside at the darkness. The street lights beaming.
Wanting more sleep. Why do I stay up so late?
Gulping down water. Because water is what the desert needs.
Needing to finish my work. Yet it is due tomorrow.
Thinking aobut when I come home.To finish my work and sleep more.
Enjoying the time I have for myself, before the day continues.

Monday, 9 March 2015

Slice #9: Small Poems


Standing still,
In the cupboard,
In the darkness.
Waiting and wishing
for light to seep in.

When the wish,
comes true.
Light seeps in.
The mug is,
carried away.
Held by the snake,
hanging at it's side.

Filled up,
And sipped.
Standing strong.
But with one,
Awift movement,
The mug comes,
Crashing down.

The Floor

Carrying us.
Helping us when,
we run or walk,
skip and crawl.
Jump and fall.
But when we fall,
The floor will
catch us.

They seem,
to do a lot.
And that they,
Need a break.
But really,
They are just,
Lazy walls.

Sunday, 8 March 2015

Slice #8: Friendship

I was reading one of my favorite books again, by one of my favorite authors, Cassandra Clare. And again I stumble upon a quote I read before(when I was reading it before). I didn't know what I wanted to write for this slice of life. So I thought of writing it about the quote I read.

Friendship is one mind in two bodies.


Meng-tzu or Mencius was a Chinese philosopher.
Born 372 BC and died at 289 BC.

I am a seprate person to my friends. Though with this statement it makes me think how much alike I am with my friends. I think the closer I am to my friends the more alike we become. The more we act alike. And the more we think alike. Making it seem we have the same mind. Yet we are multiple people, with different bodies.

Then I ask myself, what would I do without my friends? Would I be a different person? I'm that type of person who can't stand being alone. I need someone to talk to. And if that person is my friend it would be a bonus.

 Everybody answers the question 'What would you do without my friends?' With an 'I don't know'. But really it ia a hard question to answer. I don't know either. But what I think I would do is I would just be lost. To me friends are the people you grow up with, either if it is family or non-family. Friends are the ones who help you at the hardest parts of life and be there during the best. To cheer you up when you are down. To laugh with you. To love you for who you are. And not who you aren't. I don't know what I would do without my friends.

I ask you. What would you do without your friends? Think about it.

Friday, 6 March 2015

Slice #7: How Music Changes the Way I See the World

So I'm sitting in a comfy chair with my best friend beside me. She's watching a video while im listening to music.

Tell us all again,
What you think we should be.

I turned my head to see the street clear as always. The sun blazing the ground. Tapping my finger against the window sill. Pretending I'm playing the gitar here and there. I looked over at my friend and see her chuckling at her computer screen. I looked back out the window.

What the answers are,
What it is we can't see.

I suddenly realized clouds started covering the sun and sky like a blanket. And a few droplets of rain were falling. Hmph. It was quite bright just now. What happened? I shrugged.

Tell us all again
How to do what you say,

Soon enough the sky was crying a river. I took my eyes off the sky and looked at the red light infront of me. Noboby was moving. I looked down on my computer screen to check the time. 3:32.

How to fall in line,
How there's no other way,

I turned my head back up and noticed a crowd of somesort coming towards us. I couldn't tell, it was too dark for me to see.

But oh, we all know.

The closer they got, the more visible they became. It seemed like people with what looks like a plank over their heads. They looked like an army just about ot attack, wanting to take over the world.

You're guilty all the same,

I had some strang urge to run away.

Too sick to be ashamed.

I turned to look at my friend. But she was no longer there. Where is she? She wouldn't leave me right? I got up and looked around foe her.

You want to point your finger,

When I got up to look for her, everybody else on the bus was gone. The driver, the monitor, and the students, were gone.

But there's no one else to blame.

My heart was beating. I turned my head to the window. Nobody was outside. Well other than the army charging towards me. What is going on? Where is everyone? Hmm. Oh! Maybe I can't see them because of the rain. I nodded and walked to the door, that stangly was open. Oh right, they had to go out of the bus some how. Duh Farah.  I walked out into the pouring rain. I placed my hand above my eyes to cover from the rain, and looked around. And saw no one. I was alone. With the invading army.

You're guilty all the same.

As the kind of person I am, I just stood there. It takes me awhile to take in everything in.

You're guilty all the same,

I see the army getting closer.

Too sick to be ashamed,

Only a few feet away.

You want to point your finger,
One foot away. I close my eyes. Waiting for what would happen next.

But there's no one else to blame,

I felt people bumping into me for a second and no more.

There's no one else to blame.

I open up my eyes again to see me in the bus again. 

Guilty all the same.

I look around me and see my friend besids me. Hmph.

Guilty all the same.

I checked the time. 3:36.

Guilty all the same.

Guilty All the Same

Slice #6: Descriptive Writing

Golden eyes, outlined with black staring you down. Creeping around, watching for the best opportunity. Looking carfully at it's surroundings. Elf like ears glue to the sides of their head. Turn their heads whenever a noise is created. Their slick body bobbing and weaving over obstacles. Mischievous looking animals, sandy fur on the top, skin tone white fur on the bottom and beside the top of it's mouth. Screeching at evryone around them, showing their vampire like 'fangs'. Long nose smashed into thier faces. As if they all fell hitting the same place. Long slim tail dragging along behind. They see there best opportunity. Thinking that it could be their last chances to do so. They go in for the steal. Takes all they can. And scurries away.

Wednesday, 4 March 2015

Slice #4: Exploded Moment

The next hitter stepped forward, and lifted up the bat off the ground. He placed his feet a few inches apart. Putting his hands together at the end of the bat. Swinging his bat over his shoulder, moving most of his weight on his back leg. He looked down taking in a deep breath, and looked up again breathing out. He focused on the ball in the pitcher's hand.

I turned my head noticing the ball flying towards him. I slid my right foot forwards. He swung the bat. I started running, but only for a few steps and stopped. The ball flew right past his head. He sighed as the ball was passed back to the pitcher. I jogged back to third base. Second try, I thought. You can do this. I reached the base, turning around, and sliding my right foot forwards. Again. My left leg on the base waiting for push off. I looked up at the pitcher then the hitter. Come on now, hit the ball.

I saw the ball flying towards the hitter. He swung the bat once more hitting the ball. He took off to second base. So I started running again, knowing for sure that I should run. Half way there. Come on now. At the corner of my eye I saw someone throwing the ball towards home. No, no no. Come on Farah. Pick up the pace. I felt a round object slamming onto the side of my head. Omph. I stumbled a little. Just ingnore it. Almost there. And I ran over home. Yes!

Tuesday, 3 March 2015

Slice #3: Ode to the Pencil

The story started,
with a seed,
small and weak.
Growing through,
witnter, spring,
summer, and fall.
The seed grew,
into a bold and,
mightey tree.
It stood strong,
till one day,
it came crashing,
down onto the ground.
And was carried away,
into a well lit room.
Where it got cut up,
into small clinders,
filled with grey,
and coated,
with color.
Placed into a box,
partly togther again.
A few days later,
of being stuck,
in the dark.
Light flies in,
with a figure,
following behind.
Grabbing one,
of the dozen,
and placing the tip,
on a blank area.
The pencil created,
a story with words,
and pictures.
For many days,
it worked hard.
Till one day,
it came crashing,
down into the trash.

Monday, 2 March 2015

Slice #2: Tiny Story

Tried and tired but it never seemed to work. Crossing fingers. Crossing toes. And waiting for the box to spit out a paper with color.

Sunday, 1 March 2015

Slice #1: Depending on When You Met Me

Depending on when you met me, I might have been: a kid who never crawled, the girl who got objects stuck in her hair, who cut her knee open because of an oven, a procrastonator, the video watcher, a doodler, a Cassandra Clare lover, or the girl who got her thumb stuck in the elevator door.