I was having a conversation with someone.

They say you should love God, but before you love anything, you must KNOW about that thing, right? Know what are the qualities of that thing that make you love that thing. And before THAT, you must know yourself, know what are the things that you love, so that you may find it somewhere else. So here I am, wondering, in the wee hours of the night, typing away my thoughts as they come, sometimes like a crawl through the mud, slow and arduous, full of effort, others as effortlessly as water flowing. Do I know myself? Thats a question I've always pondered time and again. It may sound absurd but personally, I think its a very important question. You gotta know yourself so that when you decide on something, you are fully away of your undertaking of whatever you chose. I talk, a lot. However, whenever I'm silent, I realize my thoughts are always swirling around a few significant things, and the many branches that are linked to them, namely Life, Death and God. Theres a saying that goes something along the lines of 'A person is truly himself when he is alone.'

I am drowning my thoughts in music, my eyes are closed and the music swallows me whole. This is a good feeling.

I am small, on a tricycle, cycling around th carpark in th dark of night, all alone, strangely unafraid as I discover strange things at every corner, a shadow trailing me as I meander through all th corners.

I am medium, walking on a crowded street, looking for something I didn't know, just pushing through th crowd, and finally found it, my brother and father, by this shop, looking at a single man in blue shirt, big, black and bald, yet somehow familiar. My dad's excited, saying 'its him! its him!' He turns, and he smiles, his eyes a glint that is so familiar it immediately connects. A sigh of relief and we just watch as he disappears into th crowd, his size an illusion in this fog of life. My wallet slips out and a single coin rolls out awkwardly on th floor, suddenly an empty circle, I pick it up.

I am large, in a crowded mosque, taking off my shoes and taking ablution when I suddenly realized I'm just wearing shorts. Weird, I clearly remembered wearing long pants, and I start to search for it, but is unable to find it. I panic and call out to my friends. Suddenly, we're in taxi and I'm wearing long pants, there is a lady, a mother of one of my friends, th taxi driver makes a turn and we wonder where we're going. He points out this mosque, not th one we're from and we just accept it. Th mosque reverberates a strange vibe, I knew theres something wrong, I recognize the mosque, and asks my friend if I'm right, I am. Its a strange mosque, but we had to attend prayers which was starting soon, and we just went ahead. The taxi driver parks th taxi in front of an alley, with an archway which was strangely ancient with mold and signs of erosion, and under a large shadow which is from an unknown source.

Then I woke up. Tiring.
Seemingly a random dream, but these kinda long and vivid dreams usually aren't. Somewhere in that mess, is a message for me, for something I've done.

Sometimes, the lips do not speak what the mind intends to convey, what more our actions, which are open to more interpretation and along the way, may be distorted and perceived in a different light that the true intentions are completely lost? Yet, how else can we communicate with others? I've always tried to convey my thoughts as clearly as possible, with words and actions, from intonation to gestures, but as always, and inevitably, things don't go as planned. People misinterpret and get upset or hurt. Truly, it is never my intention to hurt, maybe to joke around and tease, but never hurt. I would know as I am, as reluctantly as I am to admit, somewhat sensitive to the words of others, even those whom I am close to and thus know their manners and character. I realized that I've become a quieter person these days, in hopes that the silence will discipline my lips and really think before I speak, as in th past, I am very sure that my words have often been said with half a thought and had hurt many others and I am truly sorry for that. Although I'm trying to speak less, its rather obvious that I still have lots to say, and I understand when people don't understand what I say, cause I agree, I tend to murmur and slur my speech, oh well. Words are really such a blunt tool of communication, especially verbal speech. It ticks me when people don't get what I say, not in the sense that my words are slurred or anything, but rather they don't get what  I'm trying to convey or mean to say, even when I structure my sentence as clearly as possible and speak coherently. Don't mind me, I'm just rambling, its how I settle my thoughts apart from drawing seemingly random things.

I have set up a high mental barrier to shield my emotions, from past experiences, I've learnt that giving my heart to another is a hurtful experience especially if the people given such a thing are not honourable in their words or true at heart. I pride myself in being able to read the expressions and words of people to somehow see through them, however, love does weird things to you. I am a person who truly respects honesty and although time and again, others has hurt me through facades and deceit, I am still willing to give you a chance to bear my heart which I readily give, however, the question lies in whether you accept it in full honesty. It is hard for me to admit this but, as inevitable as it, the past does indeed affect me and I am afraid that it will haunt me once more. Like an insecure boy, all I seek is confirmation and promise, but although it sounds simple, I know its a difficult demand to fulfill. I am a person who does things out of sincerity and it is with sincerity that I give away my heart, have no fear, I will guard yours as it were mine, but please do the same for me.

imagine a clock, the gears turning and meeting each teeth of another gear in a smooth orchestrated motion, fluid and elegant, yeah, mind used to be like that, but now, as I observe it, its getting rusty, with loud, dragging noises as they creak about their axles. Our minds like a muscle, it needs constant use to remain at its optimum level, leave it unused for long times and it will be like losing your memory, everything's just about out of reach or takes a lot longer to process. Damn, if this is gonna continue, i'm gonna lose a lot of IQ points when I go NS. Haii...

On another note, WHOOOOO, can't wait for my enlistment date! okay, hold on a minute, i'm not really THAT excited, but yknow, still is? cause its a new chapter of my life, with new people, a completely new experience, and obviously one that would greatly mature me, hopefully, HAHA! Its like th feeling you get while you're waiting in line for your turn to climb during a competition yknow, th lukewarm feeling, accompanied by the jittery nerves and excitement, yeah, that. and of course, ze money. looking forward to some sort of financial independence yea, hate asking my parents for money to go out or buy stuff, with a small albeit stable income, can lay off th burden abit yea, so its all good...