Home... at last

The whole madness has ended.

If i am to define limit, this is it. The limit to my multi-tasking capability.

The whole week was spent sleepless, carrying bags full of worries and guilt and angst and more worries. Dreams were diagnosed with virusses of darkness and again... worry.

To those who made efforts to calm and soothe me, i thank you.

To those who made efforts to make things worse for me, i thank you.

To those who had fun while i slog my butt off, i implore you to eat soil (heh... please dun. I still need you to remind me what life shud be)

All in all... the week cudnt and shudnt have been longer. Else, i'll just die.

I get to know myself better though...
The bad AND the good.

I get tired of being tired. I get tired of being worried. I get tired easily.
When i'm tired... what do i do?
I smile.

The week forced me to reflect what does success mean to me?
How do i measure success?

Success is when my youth comes to me and tells me she wants to put up 'tudong'.
Success is when my youth invites his friend to solat when he heard azan.
Success is when my youth comes to me and says he feels assured and cared for when he talks to me.

Now...
how do you measure those?

Humaira
Home... a place i call my own; safe, happening, colourful.

pssst: by the way, my degree has started. I'm officially an International Islamic University (UIA) student. Henceforth, i hereby declare.. the death of my social life.

All rise for a minute silence.

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Humaira... social murdered.