174: under deconstruction

if i could redo it all

i'd like my only breakdowns to be walls

in film or fortune or fictional flicks

or diaries or dance or with drumming sticks

or poems or prose or photos galore,

in all the above, and so much more

because

now

my soul is too old

to wound and weave

timeless legends

and tasteful lies.

maybe

i am destined to tell tales

just

maybe

not

in  this  lifetime

2am musings.

#stuffzwrites #z201809 #thingsthatmakezgohmm #muhasabahtimez #angstziety

135: let love and live

I can live and let live,
but I can't love those who only love love
but refuse to live and love.


20170529 9.10am



I can live and let live,
but I can't love those who only love love
but not those who want to live and love.

2017-04-26 3.56pm

134: honor+y

my name is izzaty,
and i have a thing for names.

i've been called many names in my life:
" 'izati" by my tok cah, who insisted on the arabic pronunciation;
"ty" by my own parents, probably because it also rhymes with 'naughty';
"izzy" or "zaki" by white friends who can't be bothered with my proper name;
"zaty", which, to be honest, is a name i only prefer to be called if i like or respect you;
and of course, "izzaty", the second birth name i've been given, which i only use/see in formal settings.

---

my name is izzaty
and i've been told that it's a good name because the root form, "izzat", means 'noble',
i.e. doing the right thing, not the royalty kind;

today i learnt that
"izzat" actually means honor
i.e. 'it's your duty to make sure you don't ruin your and your family and community's reputation' kind

today i learnt that
"izzat" is the cause
of family feuds
raging friendzonees, rape revenges
and testosterone-fueled trigger-happy armies
all of whom simply can't take "live and let live" for an answer.

today i learnt that
it's hard to stomach the fact that i've been a prey of being my own living prayer,
to be the personification of dignity
whatever that may mean
and to be responsible for the brutal consequences if i don't
however that may be.

they say names are a prayer
and now the invisible burdens on my shoulders have shown its form.

they say names are a prayer
and now i thank God that of all the decisions my parents have made
my name has a "y" at the end of it.

114: word of the day

listen up, class!

the word of the day
is
disappointment.

but no,
this is not something i'll teach you --
though it is something you will eventually learn --
because, after all,
we are but hopes and dreams
manifested
in otherwise lifeless vessels with muscles and

yes,
this is something i'll teach you:
that wants lead to confusion
from unpredicted actions
and expectations leads to reactions
that may be sanctions
or a fraction of deflection
from tension

you get an A
in this class
if you get what i say

you get a huh
in your head
if you get what i mean

---

listen up, class!

the word of the day
is
disappointment.

but no,
this is not something for you to learn --
though it is something you will, eventually --
because, after all,
all we are are hopes and dreams
manifested
in otherwise lifeless bodies
with vessels and muscles and .

no,
this is something i have learnt:
that wants lead to confusion
and expectations leads to reactions
from unexpected actions
that may be sanctions
or a fraction
of tension

you get an A
in this class
if you get what i say

you get a huh
in your head
if you get what i mean

99: they say it gets easier

as my hands
already overbr
imming
with half-
baked promises
and swOllen from the burden of
inc_mpl_t_ tasks
are faced with
LifteD
brows;
it gets easier, they say
as they
generously offer
MORE MORE MORE
of everything
without even *batting* an eyelash,
with a heapful of
words of enc(our)agement
like
l e t u s f i l l y o u i n
there's no better way to learn;
it gets easier, they say
but
There seems to be vicious creatures
TERRORIsing them in their homes
which are often called commITments,
but oh
"nothing for you to worry about,
pup
pet,
because commITments only
b
u
g
people who have
something called
LIFE

they say it gets easier,
"don't worry --
later
you can do the same to your juniors."

-
written: april '13

last edited: 021313

87: BittersweeTea

sweet
is my iced wintermelon tea
as i nibble at the gummy bubbles
and the flavored rainbow jellies
-munch
-munch
look outside
-munch
an old woman walks past
-munch
-mun--
her blanket over her arm
---ch
her hair unkempt
-pause
her expression confused
-stare
her clothes disarray
-focus
Homeless?
-assess
Disowned!
-conclude
Disability.
-pause

-munch.

-look down
chatime in my palm
-look out
blanket on her arm
-stop

Gulp.

sweet
is my iced wintermelon tea,
but did it always have
such a bitter aftertaste?

Aug 11 2013

84: tempo rally

This is the Future:

identified by = #

evaluated by = %

penalised by = $

and forced to face

an infinite input of facts and figures 

and insanity in the form of information overload

of truths and half-truths,

of white lies and whole lies,

with processors

swollen by nothing of importance,

with memories

numbed by nothing of relevance.

here are beings

disinterested

for having existed

in a world so filthy and twisted,

and be judged for crimes they had to inherit

and to right wrongs they did not commit --

This is the Future.

getting closer and closer

as loud as ever

but on mute.

This is the Future,

where the silent screams

are nothing

but

deafening.

82: bogus focus.

not too long ago,
i said to a fellow colleague
who had a degree in physics:

"i find it amazing
that we can send texts, e-mails, videos, bank payments, groceries, bouquets of flowers
without some form of land or physical connection --
all this data floating around in the air
being channelled along by waves
that we cannot see,
touch,
or hear...
but they're there,
and they reach where they need to reach, no matter the destination
and they do what they need to do, no matter the outcome.

it's like...

Magic."

and when i said the last word
i could've sworn
that she almost choked on her drink.

she then stifled out a laugh
and looked at me as if i just told her
that i wanted to fork out my eyes.
"that's not magic,
that's Physics!"

i couldn't help it.
i sighed,
"i know there are
scientific explanations and theories and concepts and whathaveyou
but it still doesn't change the fact that
it is amazing
how there's an infinity of invisible information
in insanely long strings of 0s and 1s
flowing above, around, under, through, between us
dutifully trying to achieve its mission
at the click of a button, at a tap of a screen, at a touch of key."

i couldn't help it.
i asked,
"does it not make you wonder,
how there are all these things we cannot see,
yet they do amazing things,
at lightning speed
and with wonderful results?
you need something,
whether it's a definition of a word, or a recipe for some dish you're craving for, or chatting to a long-distance friend, and voila --
you get it.
Magic.
at your fingertips."

she lifted an eyebrow.
"but that's not Magic,
that's Physics!"

and so i tried to 'compromise'
by saying that i meant it as more of a metaphor
(which she couldn't understand)
and then i said that i'll perhaps use the adjective 'magical'
(because that's what i had meant, anyway)
but she just became more confused...


and that's when i knew
it was not a battle worth fighting.


because it was then that i finally understood
that Magic
is not what you see (or don't see)
or what you hear (or don't hear)
or what you understand (or don't understand)

Magic is what's felt;
what we get
when we replace
adult-like rationality and knowledge to make us smart,
with child-like wonder and gratitude to make us happy.


---

not too long ago,
i told a fellow colleague
who had a degree in physics:

"i find it amazing
that we can send texts, e-mails, videos, bank payments, chocolates and bouquets of flowers
without wires 
sometimes by just using our
mobile devices;
all this data floating around in the air
being channelled by waves
that cannot be seen
touched
heard
felt
but they're there,
and it reaches where it needs to reach
and it does what it needs to do.
it's like...
magic."

she almost choked on her drink,
"that's not magic,
that's physics!"

i tried to explain to her
that i understand
about scientific explanations and theories and concepts and whathaveyou
but it still doesn't change the fact that
there is all these invisible information 
around you
in long strings of alternating and combinations of 0s and 1s
flowing along to dutifully achieve its mission
at the click of a button, at a tap of a screen, at a touch of key.

this infinite space of ours
full of all this
does it not make you become full of wonder?
does it not make you become full of awe?
of what humans are capable of dreaming of,
of what humans are capable to achieve?

but her response was simply,
"yes,
but that's not magic,
that's physics!"

and that's when i knew
it was not a battle worth fighting.

because it was then that i finally understood
that magic
is not what you see
or what you hear
or what you understand...

it's what is felt.

80: The real currency?

I was on a plane en route to perform my Umrah last year when I had one of the most profound experiences in my life.

I knew I was supposed to do some last-minute reading on the things I needed to know and do and say when I reached my destination; to prep up for my obligations as a Muslim in one of The holiest sites on earth, but... [*excuse erased*]

Yes, I have read through the small, thick spiralled Umrah guidebook given to me by the week before tourgroup - from cover to cover countless times, in fact - but I feel guilty if I put it down or kept it in my bag.  After much contemplation I decided to wear the string attached to the book around my neck and just let it hang there, resting against my chest, just in case I felt like reading it again later.

I turned to my right talk to Mom, but she had already dozed off. In fact, I was one of the few who wasn't already blissfully in dream land. I wish I could join them, but I couldn't, for some reason.

After checking my watch for the nth time, I began to hear some kids asking the adults around them "Lambat lagi ke?" ("Are we there yet?") like a broken record.

I yawned as my eyes travelled around the cabin, trying to find something or someone to look at, and they finally landed on the entertainment screen at the back of the headrest in front of me. When I saw my reflection in the dark, imageless screen, I subconsciously held onto the umrah guidebook hanging from my neck.

"Maybe just for a while."
... is what I thought to myself.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I switched on the entertainment set. Maybe I just wanted something to do that didn't involve reading while waiting for the stewards and stewardesses to give us our refreshments. That's what I kept telling myself as I was pressing the buttons, hoping to land of something worthwhile.

The music selection wasn't very interesting (I'm not much of a fan of Middle Eastern music), so I browsed through the other things offered. As I scrolled down the movies selection, a guy with a familiar face caught my eye.

The guy was Justin Timberlake, and the movie poster had a white bolded 'IN TIME' written right at the top of the poster. I couldn't help but laugh at how corny the title was.

I mean, seriously.

The movie had already started playing for a few minutes, but I watched it anyway. Out of curiosity, and partly because, well, it's Justin, one of my ultimate celeb crushes as I was growing up.

... and the smile I had plastered on my face disappeared as soon as I started watching the movie.

The story is set in a world where 'time is money'. Literally. Every business transaction uses not bills or notes or even magnetised plastic cards, but time. Time is the mode of currency, no matter where you are in the world.

What does this mean? It means that you pay for anything and everything with the time you have left in your body. The seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, years in your life.

In such a world, those who are rich are those with a long life. They are, in theory, immortal.

Those who are poor are those who have little time left in or for themselves.

Those who are bankrupt are, well, dead.

And all that is well and good and profound and everything, but that's not what the reason why the movie affected me. What affected me throughout the movie was that I couldn't help but think of surah al-Asr.

“By Time! Indeed Man is in Loss.  Except those who have faith and do good works, 

and exhort one another to truth and exhort one another to patience.” (Q.103:1-3)

The surah kept playing again and again and again in my head throughout the movie. It made the story much more intense. It made all the characters' business transactions and conversations and decisions seem questionable. It was frightening.

When the credits started rolling in I realised that my eyes were wet. I kept trying to dry them with the sleeves of my abaya, but they continued to well up again. It just wouldn't stop.

After I took off my headset, I started to contemplate on a lot of things.
In no time, I was drowning in my thoughts, just as my eyes were drowning in my tears.

I thought about my past. My present. My future.

I began to wonder about my career path, about what I had for dinner the last night, about why of all the movies in the world, that was the one I had watched.

I began to think of all those years I wasted idolising a celebrity and memorising his shoe size, favourite pizza topping and his biggest pet peeve. (I'm relieved to say that I've completely forgotten all three -- I have better things to do with my memory).

I began to think of how right before Mom and I left for the airport with this morning, we ended up arguing - godknowswhy, over godknowswhat.

I began to think of what is going to happen to me when the people and things I have around me are no longer there.

What have I been doing all my life? What am I doing right now? What will I do when it all ends?

Justin had always had an 'effect' on me back when I was 13 - his golden curls and cheeky grins always made my heart skip a beat, but now, the only effect he left on me from the movie wasn't his boyish charms.

It was all about the message he was trying to convey, the idea that the story is trying to unfold.

The movie, in a way, carries a truth that many of us tend to forget, or perhaps one that many of us choose to ignore: "We talk of killing time, while time slowly kills us".

74: Moga Bisa

seorang

yang biasa

tapi luar biasa 

kerana bisa

melangkau jauh bila mengadap gaung

melompat tinggi biar di jambatan tali

berazam besar untuk dijadikan realiti

yang bisa

melawan arus di aliran yang deras

tersungkur jatuh terus bangun kembali

meminta maaf sekiranya menyakiti,

yang

mukanya tidak masam

lidahnya tidak menghirisi

tangannya tidak berduri, 

yang bisa

belajar 

dari kebaikan

dan kesilapan

dari kesenangan

dan kesusahan,

yang bisa

menasihat

dan merawati

mengawal

dan memerhati,

berkali kali,

tanpa keluh,

tanpa henti,

dari hadirnya ke bumi,

hingga saat dikebumi. 

ini

manusia

yang aku mahu 

jadi. 

5/3/13 3.42pm

I've been extra careless with my words and actions lately. :(

67: the sole battle

at the end of the day
these rows of lustrous lots
these groups of vague vendors
these lines of scripted sentences
are operating
like an oasis
in the middle of nowhere;
offering
promises
to care less;
promises
that are careless.

because
as you get closer,
you would soon realise
your eyes wildly looking around to soak in the vision of what you are able to (par)take,
your mouth salivates with the thought of how that sparkling pond water would taste,
your fingers would carelessly reach out to touch, feel, things you have longed for.

all to satisfy
your natural instincts
your worldly desires
your own foolishness.

and yet, you make a run for it.
you run like your life depended on it.
does it?
does our life depend on whether we reach this oasis,
despite knowing that
we are still
lost
and
alone
in a desert?

perhaps we have lost sight of
or lost track of
or have completely removed ourselves of the thought that
there is
an untouched-as-yet lake
up in the virgin mountains
just waiting
for us
to have a swim.

may we all win the battle
against ourselves
when we face a mirage
in the comforting disguise
of an oasis.

may we all reach that lake.

ameen.


why are we killing each other
and ourselves
in a race
to reach an oasis
that is only a mirage?

66: Mallicious.

i hate walking around aimlessly
i hate wanting without understanding why
i hate trying to find out why i feel so out of place
i hate seeing rows of shops like deja vu on every floor
i hate salespeople with fake smiles and sugarcoated words
i hate being manipulated by people who only care about making profit
i hate hating myself for spending on myself in order to make others feel happy
i hate the sights sounds tastes smells of plastic dreams i'm supposed to be drowning in
i hate seeing people pride themselves with things by the oppressed's blood, sweat and tears;

malls are malicious,
and these are just a few reasons why.

64: Malls, I

what are malls, other
than a place
to deceive the masses
and our own selves?

63: Where the heart is

a few of our paintings in this corner
a flower in a mug right over there
a bunch of pebbles on the kitchen table
sand and shells in a bottle somewhere

a black and white sculpture on the table
a lot of sunshine, with light in tight spots
a psychadellic rug to brighten up the area
some fans around in case it gets too hot

a disco ball in the middle of the fun room
a few places for books i love but barely read
a mismatched set of rainbowy kitchen things
mini garden at the back (no clue yet on what seeds)

a bed as if i'm sleeping on chocolate clouds
a colorful bunch of essentials for the bathroom
a few stained glass bowls with candles inside
space to geek out - where minds go boom.

a wall of pictures for the people in our life
a fridge of stuff homegrown or homemade
items in each room that remind us of Him
if all this came true, i know i'd have it made.

a few choice paintings in this corner
a flower in a mug right over there
a bunch of pebbles on the kitchen table
sand and shells in a bottle somewhere

a black and white sculpture on the table
a diy standing lamp in a tight spot
a psychadellic rug to brighten up the area
some fans around in case it gets too hot

a disco ball in the middle of the fun room
a few shelves for books i love but barely read
a whole set of rainbowy kitchen things
mini garden at the back (no clue yet on what seeds)

a bed with sheets as if i'm sleeping on clouds
a colorful set of essentials for the bathroom
a few stained glass bowls for candles inside
space to geek out - where minds go boom.

a wall of pictures for the people in my life
a fridge of stuff homegrown or homemade
items in each room that remind me of Him
if all this came true, i know i'd have it made.

62: All about the dosh

money can buy you a wholesome feast
but not an appetite

money can pay for your under the table degree
but not an ounce of respect


money can get you something to warm your bed
but not to warm your heart


money can afford you flashy cars at the speed of light
but not satisfy the need for speed

money can score people who will blindly take your side
but not true loyalty

money can win over unquestioning voters
but not unquestionable critics

money can land you a lot of luxuries in life
but not a sense of security

money can make your world go round,
but not everyone's.

not everyone's.

53: Disabled

Sure, she can't see, but

she can read, hear and feel words
from the Beloved.

We can't understand
God's words with our fingertips,
so who's handicapped?

inspired by a blind girl at a tafseer class i sometimes attend. she was sitting in front of me, and was intently listening to the ustaz explaining about the surah we were learning during the session while running her fingers around a seemingly blank page of a thick book. upon closer look, i realised it was a braille quran. 
i have been blessed with the gift of sight, and i can read quranic words anywhere if i wanted to; what's my excuse not to? :(

52: Submerged

Somehow,
I find myself in the middle
of the sunken fields of Despair
again.

But I am not stationary.
And I am not alone.
Because the weight of
pent-up tears and
the wrench of
dark undercurrents 

make me sink
faster, deeper

into the overbrimmed
realms of Dysphoria,

the dystopic home of

the rejected,
the tormented,
the dejected,

the fragmented.

Here is where

you will find those
who are in want of 

a teaspoon of Concern,

a big pinch of Gratitude,

a handful of Appreciation,

a morsel of Happiness,

a sprinkle of Hope;

from those whom
they care about the most

(from those who
care about them the least).

Struggling together in
solitude: suffocating in this
sea of hot ever-flowing tears and

sobs of endless desperation from being

souls trapped in lucklustre, unfulfilled lives

still trying to seek someone who understands, to
save us from ourselves. But there is nowhere to go but

Down.

And the lower I go, 

the more I give in

the more I give up

the less I give a fuck 

about the world.
About all this.

Will this go on forever? Will this abruptly end?

Will this just end up being a nightmare,
where I wake up drenched in my own sweat?

And ah, what if I'm able to save myself

But am unable to save the others,

especially those who dragged
me all the way down here?

Do I leave them?
Not an option.

I couldn't

I can't

I won't.


old:

in the middle
of the sunken
fields of
Despair,
the weight of
pent-up tears and
the wrench of
dark undercurrents 

make me sink
faster, deeper

into the overbrimmed
realms of Dysphoria,

the dystopic residence of

the rejected,
the tormented,
the dejected,

the fragmented.

Here is where

you will find those who 

lack and are in want of 

a teaspoon of Concern,

a big pinch of Gratitude,

a handful of Appreciation,

a morsel of Happiness,

a sprinkle of Hope;

from those whom
they care about the most

(from those who
care about them the least).

So I
suffocate in this

sea of tears as the

sighs of desperation from

souls trapped in lucklustre lives

seeking those who can try to understand.

But there seems to be nowhere to go but down.

And the lower I go, 

the more I give in

the more I give up

the less I give a fuck 

about the world.
About all this.

Will this go on forever? Will this abruptly end?

Will this just end up being a nightmare,
where I wake up drenched in my own sweat?

And ah, what if I'm able to save myself

But am unable to save the others,

especially those who dragged
me all the way down here?

Do I leave them?
Not an option.

I couldn't

I can't

I won't.

49: monu_ental

the only spaces
we can fill in our lives are
breaks and intervals

1/11/12 3.23am

48: reaching mars

finalised:

in this vast space of lights and blackholes galore
i'm an estranged loner, nothing more than a bore
because to call me a venus just doesn't quite cut it,
i'm more a pluto, of quite a different composite:

i'm foreign, icy and physically out of reach,
a pretty unspectacular rock, but i do beseech
you to walk in my shoes, see things where i stand;
although i know it's not easy to comprehend
as you're much closer to our point of energy
while i'm just out here searching for synergy
of prospective beings, and the keyword is hoping --
of prospective beings (in the end i'm just hoping
-- most of the time it's my only way of coping).

yet even if i'm out here, all distant and far
doesn't mean i'm blind, i can still see the star,
like a fiery top twirling in an ebony sea
of obscure orbits -- we're just Not meant to be.

last updated: 2016-02-01 8.58pm
last updated: 13/11/12 12.33am

-----
somehow being a venus just doesn't quite cut it,
i'm more a pluto, of quite a different composite.

i'm foreign, icy and physically out of reach,
a pretty unspectacular rock, but i do beseech
you to walk in my shoes, see things from where i stand;
although i know it's not easy to comprehend
as you're much closer to our flaming source of energy
while i'm just hanging around here hoping for synergy
of the future generation (and the keyword is hoping --
honestly, most of the time it's my only way of coping)
but in this dimension with lights and blackholes galore,
i am but an estranged loner, nothing but a bore.

but even if i'm out here, all distant and far
doesn't mean i'm blind, i can still see the star,
spinning like a fiery top without falling to one side,
making our orbits eternal... we will never collide.

i admit, i'm still clueless of where this will all lead
but what i know for sure is that all dwarfs still bleed.




29/10/12 6.59pm

===

revised?


somehow being a venus just doesn't quite cut it,
i'm more a pluto, of quite a different composite.

i'm foreign, icy and physically out of reach,
pretty much an unspectacular rock, but i do beseech
you to try seeing things from where i stand;
although i know it's not easy to comprehend
as you're closer to our flaming source of energy
while i'm just hanging around here hoping for synergy
of the future generation (and the keyword is hoping --
honestly, most of the time it's my only way of coping)
but in this space, with lights and blackholes galore,
an estranged object as i couldn't be more of a bore.


i admit, i'm still clueless of where this will all lead
but what i know for sure is that all dwarfs still bleed.


but even if i'm out here, all distant and far
doesn't mean i'm blind, i can still see the star,

glaring bright in the centre of our space,
but will this be my resting place?


to top it off, our sun spins on, not falling to one side,
making our orbits eternal... we will never collide.

29/10/12 6.59pm

46: what i want is what i am

i'm not cool or fun
or quirky or eccentric;
but i'll make you smile.

27/10/12 9pm