Out of 30 days of Ramadhan, almost two third of it were filled with iftar invitations. That was the case last year. Invitations were flowing in, untapped. I was more than glad to accept them - for business, for leisure, for knowing more people out of my common circle, for finding someone that could make me happy. When people were busy prepping selves for once-a-year tarawih, I was out of hand taking calls and entertaining the likes (of me).

I have some kind of revelation this year. I don't understand where it comes from, or how it comes into me. It just me wanting to recuperate from my misdeeds and my wrongdoings. I almost forget about the men that I chase, about the person that I thought could make me happy. I was wrong. I was dead wrong. When I see a deep black gaping hole inside my heart, I resort to find a man (sometimes some men!) to plug it back. How stupid I didn't see that that wasn't the answer.

So this year is a little bit different. At least the difference is comparable to last year's. I had declined to date a total of 12 invitations. People did question why. I answered honestly that I just don't want to. I had no better explanation for that. Perhaps the closest answer that I could give was I Just Want To Be At The Place Where I Can Find My Solace.

I respect my own decision. And I hope people around will do so too.

I just had enough. I hope this will never end. And to continue even after Ramadhan bids its goodbye.


Squid and spring onion before stir fried with salted egg. That was my iftar tonight. 


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