I can confidently say that this post of mine, will probably be the last post on Shajagan.

This blog's been with me for four years now, since I was 11. The pre-pubescent times were hell on my flat-chested little self, I swear.

But right now, I'm more than satisfied with everything in my life. There isn't a moment I want to take back, or a lesson I want to unlearn.

My family and friends have put me in the right place and there's no limit to the amount of love and gratitude I have for them.

For now, I have this amazing life to live, these opportunities to test out, brilliant people to meet and dozens of people to love and thank. There isn't a moment I'm not basking in.

And something tells me, that everything has been worth it.

P/s: Congratulations to Obama. Change change change. (:

So with all my love,
Maya

Today was better. (No chemistry,phew.) Anyway, my sister sucks and I don't like her. Who says you have to love your family? Geez, I didn't even get to pick them, so I don't care.

And, teachers really need to get a grip of themselves. Having personal problems with students is not part of your job. You don't get a dollar an hour to do shit like that. Go feed your newborn or something.

Friendship is so enormously difficult to describe. Wonder what happens when people begin to frustrate you and even when you think about their differences and how the RIGHT thing to do is to accept those differences...ignorance is just not a difference. Ignorance is a plague. It sticks up all arses and never comes out.

I guess it really takes a well-traveled man to appreciate the world and it's diversity. Being ignorant comes with staying at home with a bag of nachos and watching Mr Q's testicle series. And if one day I come across a man who can justify the act of people eating crickets and ants and lizards in certain countries, I will respect that man, no doubt. That's a true culture vulture.

So I've come to learn that of course, everyone has opinions and majority of the time we stick by those opinions. I have opinions too. But I'm never going to let those hindsight me from learning new things and never am I going to shun the things that I'm not aware of. And for those people that I have shunned and have stopped wasting my energy on, there is a very simple reason for that. I have gotten to know them, I have tried to get along with them, but it simply isn't working. Friendships are not meant to make you feel exhausted at the end of the day.

It's complicating because there's so much give and take. And because I've experienced these difficult friendships, it sort of makes things a tad bit easier to understand.

Anyway it's been an exhausting week to say the least. NOT looking forward to chemistry. Sharifah drives me absolutely nuts. Someone should ... nevermind, not going to finish that sentence. Ah well. Bridging has been pretty blank. And I'm a cat at heart, I need 18 hours of sleep. Not looking forward to my act3 performance because I'm not looking forward to the dance part. Sheeesh.

Optimism please. :D

I'm totalllly not in the mood for anything laaaaaaaaaaaa.

act3's getting on my nerves as well.

ugh

I can safely say that I've never wanted anything as much as I want this! And my gosh, it's such a new realisation. No smiles, not an amazing fashion sense and I say this is the world I want. Sarcastic conversations with bulging forearms.

With a banner that runs across eye signals. Banners that read, I'm lovin' it!

Everytime there was a masquarade of curly, dark hair over a boy's eyes, she got excited. Maybe, she thought, maybe, my time has come. Maybe, her fingers that had been over-cracked and neglected, will become nimble and will exude of the smell of varnish. Maybe, her eyes would align with another's and she'd stop feeling self-concious.

She saw those other girls in over-sized Michigan sweatshirts. But how come they always looked cute, never sloppy, like she did? There was always drool on the front of hers, there was always some mysterious stain, which she could never trace back. She wondered if her ears could smell her once, then she realised that she was afraid. Afraid of what, she didn't know.

Maybe the desolate rejects would be left with the desolate rejects. Maybe that's how they got picked. Maybe she wasn't even good enough for the desolate rejects. But who was she to say?

She perservered in some ways, for the things she thought she wanted. The boy with the black tattooed wrist and a cool hair cut. The boy who smelled of smoke and who adorned that all white uniform for about 6 years. She knew she wasn't cool enough for that boy. Her hair wouldn't go straight and pit black and her eyes wouldn't align with thick, black, eyeliner. She didn't smell of lavender and her mouth wasn't the painted ones on dolls. But the boy with the black tattooed wrist leaned towards the porcelain china doll and whispered,

"Hey, honey, come with me."

The porcelain china doll looked over to the zahara doll in all her brown, splendour and laughed just a little. It was a diverse world, after all.

"Of course, this is my game after all."

Black wrist smiled, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

"Your game, which I'm winning."