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Why do we think love will fix us and makes us whole when in the end it just leaves us more broken than before?


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The hardest thing you have to endure in life most probably is to hang on tight to all of your shits, and still be able to smile in the end.

Tupac Shakur sums it all just right. You gotta be able to smile through all these bullshits.

Chin up and face the world.

Suck it up.



Eid Mubarak

Selamat Hari Raya. Maaf Zahir dan Batin.

Zubaidah Arshad
Saudi Arabia


The Buaianain - Part 2

Shay and I share a disturbing roller coaster relationship with each other. It was when I joined the company a few years back that Abdulaziz introduced me to him, and the relationship that was supposed to be good along the way, was tarnished by my stupid childish act. When you say women are harder to understand compared to men, you may want to give yourself a pretty hard knock on your head. Shay is the epitome of a super complex, super mystery guy. The only thing that is so not mysterious about him perhaps the fact that he is a fine-built, muscular, handsome man.

When Shay was away for two straight months, life in the office seemed weightless. I couldn't be sure whether it was because I didn't care, or because my heart was so swollen with anger (and with a little dilution of love dose) that his absence was nothing but godsend. It was easy to forget someone when that someone was not around, and it was easier that the multiple awkward encounters on the stairs, or on the hallway, or on the way to the cafeteria, were totally gone. But given my atrocious track record of getting back to the same pool of shit all over again, I met him in his office when he reported back for duty. He had a minor surgery, so I thought it was appropriate for me to give him a courtesy visit. It was fine at that particular time that he even spilled some of his well-kept hidden secrets. It went perfectly well for the first few days until I sent him a Whatsapp message telling him that he was important to me.

Things went downhill from that point onward, the episode of awkward encounters resumed in its supremacy. At one time, we crossed our paths on the hallway. He was from the left side of the building, while I on the other hand, was walking from another side of the building. The destination however was similar - the main exit door. I wanted to look at him but I couldn't. You know, when you met someone that you fond, but you were in a row with him and you were clueless and you were left dumbfounded to what your next move should be. I couldn't pass through the door, barely holding to my racing heart, let alone to get pass through the moment.

A few days ago, I had a lengthy talk with Asmida. She agreed and concluded that I was the one to blame, that I was the root cause for all the turmoil I faced with my opposite sex human interaction. As much as I wanted to disagree, I couldn't. I guess, this what will happen when you love someone a little bit too much.

Shay is somehow special to me. I think so. I would like to think so, even when he thinks the other way round. My problem with getting too involved in the early stage of friend(relation)ship needs to be looked upon. It has ruined a lot of my past relationships with other men. I can't continue to chase for people's love. I need to settle down and embark on a new journey. After all, my eggs won't last long. Someone needs to be born to be my legacy.

p/s: The Buaianain as the post title does not reflect the previous Al Buaianain. I found out that he is as jerk as Shay. I think even worse. That's all.


One Track Mind

Carelessness emerges together with stupidity. It usually doesn't come single handed, it always comes in pair. Well, for certain others, admitting your stupidity and mistakes are a out-of-worldly affair, but for me, I take it as an instrument to learn more about yourself, some trait that you forget to delve and have a glimpse into.

That's what happened to me when I decided to privatize my blog a few weeks ago. The nice cocoon that I have been hiding all this while was almost blown off - no thanks to my absentminded brain.

I think I got it sorted out, so I will continue to write, and open this blog to public, you know, just to test the water.

We'll see what will happen.

I hope I am not ruining anything.



Saudi Boyfriend

She was like the dust that clung to his shirt. She was in the silences that had become so frequent at the house, silences that welled up between their words, sometimes cold and hollow, sometimes pregnant with things that went unsaid, like a cloud filled with rain that never fell.

-And The Mountains Echoed



We are hogging the free wifi because who wants to pay when there's something that's absolutely free? This is beyond weird, we could've spent some time together doing things that will make us know each other better, but we end up sitting in a mall, trying to figure out what we should do next.

We lost our way an hour earlier, got pushed to some weird housing area with eyes looking at us like we are some inmates running away from the cops. Even weirder when he takes his own sweet time, putting himself in the front camera for selfie, like come on, I am here dude, at least have the courtesy to take a selfie together.

I think this won't be the trip of my lifetime. Perhaps for him, it is, but for me, I sense some awkward moments ahead.

We will see.



The Trip Of A Lifetime (?)

Tomorrow, at 1530 hrs, he and I will board the plane to the (probably) trip of a lifetime. He has been planning this for months, and it couldn't be more fitting that his birthday was a week ago and he just finished his exam a few past hours. This part time master that he rides on, takes its toll on him. He went off for a week leave to complete the exam, and a few minutes ago, a voice note flashed in that he it was so terrible he wanted to drink until he got lost tomorrow.

As a person who takes things literally, that was a little disturbing. First of all, I don't drink. Second of all, I am going to be awkward around the people who drink. Third, this drinking stuff just shifted my perspective towards him. And if you people remember, I listed out the characteristics of a guy that I would date a few posts back. Smoking and drinking never made it into the list, so if he does really drink, that will be really a game changer.

I want this trip to be something that I will remember for the rest of my life. In a good way. Not the other way round.

Let's just hope that was just his penis talking.

Good night.



Loving Shits

There's a situation when describing it would be like deciphering Mayan tribe's crazy puzzle - you only see the figures and shapes and you don't have any fucken idea where and when and how it's going to end up, and you don't have the slightest thought of whom it would be solved with, and whose shitty idea is this to create this puzzle in the first place.

It's like staring into the blank night canvas where distant stars look graspable when in reality, the only way to measure the distance is by the light years. That's how far it is. We are only tiny speck of dust in a super massive universe, where the puzzles that lie in, are more greater than the Mayans had left for us to ponder. 

Mayans and the stars gazing aside, Loving Shits is far more greater piece of trivia among other shitty riddles to debunk. I define Loving Shits as shithole-y situation where you got stuck in between being a friend or edge an inch further to breach the friend-lover line. You can't say you love him, but you can't deny that you don't think about him either. It's all about to keep everything calm and composed and restraining self not to go overboard because you don't want to ruin the friendship but at the same time, you would love to test the water and go overboard. And once you went overboard, the regrets start to flush in and out. All of a sudden, you feel like a crap because you just gone beyond the line, and you couldn't take it back, and he didn't reply your text back.

He didn't fucking reply your text back! Imagine the anxiousness - it is far more suffocating than stuck in elevator full with fart gas. 

I can tell you that the struggle is real. Over a cup of tea, you start to console yourself that you can get pass through these shits, that in two or three days time, you will forget him and life would regulate to its normal state again. 

This is all Loving Shits in its bare nature. 

Loving Shits is shittiest form of love ever exist. Because three minutes later, he replied back to your text, complete with a sexy voice note, and a bouquet of roses emoticon in between.

Loving Shits now back to square one.



That Call

It was one of the days when you had back to back meetings, and the only time you had the time to go back to your room was at the lunch hour.

It was on that particular day when I saw a missed call from him on my office phone. We had no official business at all except colleagues who worked together under the same building, so when I saw that missed call, I called him back to check out what was up.

"Hellooooooooooooo" he made a long resonating 'oooooooo' as if calling some little kids for their breakfast. Cute, bar none.
"Hello", I smiled, and I know he was smiling as well.
There was a pregnant pause, and I continued,
"Did you call me?"
"Nothing, just to make sure that you are there"
"Ahh okay..."
"Uh huh"
"Bye", he hung up, and I hung up, pretty much in a slow motion.

I didn't realize for how long I smiled while staring at the inanimate phone. But I was sure it was kinda long enough that the meetings right after that seemed weightless.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh stupid women and their fragile emotions.




Little Windmill from Amsterdam

In the real world, I am such a powerful figure among my colleagues. I make multimillion decisions, I directed a number of employees, I am the elusive strong white collar woman.

But there are things a woman can't do. Albeit a handful of arguments about the gender equality, we fail to admit that a woman can't do everything at all. Beside a successful man, there's a woman beside him. But don't you agree that beside a successful woman, there's supposed to be a man behind her?

There are four burned out light bulbs in my bedroom and today, after returning home from work, I found my bathroom was flooded with hot water. Turned out, the hot water fitting was broken. As I'm writing this, I can hear clearly the distant sound of water dripping from the bathroom. 

I can call a number right away to fix these trivia stuff, but would I ever call some stranger if there's a man standing by my side?

You know what, the proverb Don't Judge A Book By It's Cover has the best underlying meaning of all. People see me shiny, gleaming with smile from the outside, but do they have any idea what is happening beneath the closed doors?



The Buainain

You remind me a lot of Shay. Your look, your physique, your smile, your manicured beard, your mustache, your voice, the way you talk, your height. Everything.

Shay has been gone for two months now. I don't know whether he will come back or be gone forever. You come in at the exactly perfect time.

It hurts me a bit that I have to forget you and replace with someone that looks just like you.