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This Bird Needs A Bicycle

As I walked past a perfectly aligned date palm trees along the walkway to my office, I couldn't help to notice the birds that were happily (they were happy I assumed) pecking the fallen dates on the ground.

Life is simple for them. Wake up in the morning, spread the wings and look for foods, fill up their tummies, and get back home right after.

Nothing to worry about. There is no complex love life, no mortgage, no dumb underlings, no loud sex neighbors, no traffic jam, no bad hair day, no office politics, no keto diet. They have no human silly problems to face to.

But then it strikes me that the birds have to worry about prying cats, about the rain that ruins their nest, about finding foods for their hatchlings, worrying about their babies. They have tonnes of bird problems that we silly human may not understand.

But fuck it. I understand bird problems. I just want to be a bird. Let me be a bird for a day. Then I can judge.


This Bird Needs A Bicycle
Zubaidah Arshad
23 Sept 2018
Sa…

Revenge

There’s a faint tone of subtlety in the speeches from those who have been the sturdy supporters of the former ruling government.

It is as if watching kids humming dissatisfaction while slowly swallowing the defeat. Hard and gravelly along the throat, but swallowing is the last choice in hand.

People have to accept that ruling a nation is not prerogative to a singular entity.

The defeated has to vouch on the idea that changes come in many forms and shapes. And I believe this time, it could not be any clearer.

Happy Friday everyone.

Love,
ZA

First and Last

Sometimes love does not need to be expressed by words. I Love You, I Need You, I Am Falling For You, are all phrases that are so cliche, it loses its values.
Love is a mutual feeling. When two people love each other, their actions speak louder than any verbal I Love You you've possibly ever heard.
Love is about pretending not to love, but loving is all what we do.

Zubaidah Arshad Krakow, Poland 1st March 2018
"Do you run?"
"Yes. Out of patience, fucks and money"


Artificial Hope

That warm Saturday morning when I saw you being basked by the mid summer sun ray — you were barefooted, in your wide neck tank top and a floral board short, your hair was golden, glistened by the unforgiving bright sunlight — I knew that my artificial dream had almost came true.

Except that you never knew who I was, you never knew that I was seeing my dream materialized like riding on a ferris wheel — circling the horizon, up and down, the feel of being on top of the world, the soft silky gush of breeze that touched your face  — gazing from afar.

You wouldn’t know. Because I didn't have balls to tell you that I wanted you. Not that I had balls in the first place (literally!), but if I did, I would. Because my jaw locked up like a constantly-smiling clown at a cheap fun fair.

And now you’re gone.
With that girl.
Who stole my dream.
On the mid summer morning.

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"I Miss You"
Zubaidah Arshad
25 July 2017
1225 hrs
Dubai
United Arab Emirates

Apartment 11B

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This picture was taken on the top of the hill at Old Town Ibiza. The day was beautiful and sunny. The people too. Can’t say that I miss a place so much like I miss Ibiza.

Those Little Words

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My 3 journals. Journals are not judgmental. They just keep quiet when you poor your thoughts to them. They don't make you look stupid when you tell them your feelings. They don't shrug off when you tell them your problems.

They just there. Silent and your words stare back at your face.

Journals keep me sane. These journals are my solace.